A Love Not Meant to Be
by SilverAsTheFox
Summary: Finnick Odair didn't think anything of it when he asked the Girl On Fire on a date. He had no confidence in her winning and if anything, he was granting her a privilege before she was slaughtered in the Games. He did not, however, expect to become attracted by her fire. Finnick's journey through love with Katniss as she tries to survive the Hunger Games. Read and Review. On Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own The Hunger Games, they belong to the genius that is Suzanne Collins. She is simply God given and I loved her Underlander chronicles~ May Suzanne Collins stay with us forever and write us awesome books for as long as time. But, I simply love Finnick and of course I love Katniss. And I love Finnick and Katniss, together. And there isn't as much Finnick/Katniss fanfiction as I'd like, so I got the urge to write this.

Chapter One

Finnick did not fall in love with Katniss at first sight. In fact, Finnick didn't even believe in love at first sight. He believed in lust at first sight, but considering that amount of lust his profession had "gifted" him with, he could last a lifetime without lusting for another woman.

To be honest, when Finnick first saw her, on the pale pink walls in a Capitol woman's bedroom, featured on a screen more than twice his size, he didn't even think she was all that beautiful. Scrawny was the first word that came to mind, seeing the blue dress, which hung limply off of her obviously malnourished body. Her collarbone was one of the most prominent features about her, however whereas normally a profound collarbone attracted him, hers was sticking out of her body unnaturally.

Finnick has associated with an abundance of gorgeous women over the years after he became a victor. Cashmere, the District 1 winner, was, without a doubt, beautiful with her long blonde hair and blue eyes. Even Johanna, who had cropped her hair down to a distastefully short length, had a wild and untamed beauty.

While her beauty didn't strike Finnick though, he was definitely interested in her strength. Even after he left the room, getting dressed in his designer clothes and kissing his latest customer on the forehead, he was left with the image of her eyes, shining with determination.

Katniss's face was plastered all over the Capitol, starting on the day she volunteered to save her sister. Even now, a repeating clip of her rushing on stage was played besides Caesar Flickerman, whose show was being played on one of the many skyscrapers in the Capitol.

"District Twelve's First Volunteer!" was seen in large letters on the bottom of the broadcast.

"Now look at the confidence in this young woman! She looks like a winner to me, folks! What do you guys think?" Caesar asked his audience, who all shouted in agreement.

"Winner," Finnick wondered. Whereas it was true that Katniss looked confident, standing on stage with her back straight, Finnick seriously doubted that she would last more than an hour in the Hunger Games. She was, after all, from District Twelve and with her weight, it looked like she couldn't handle a tap on the shoulder, much less trained Careers. _Winner._ Finnick didn't think anyone was a winner in the Hunger Games. If they weren't screwed up mentally, then they sure were emotionally. Look at him, smiling and charming and handsome on the outside, but broken on the inside.

Finnick spent the rest of his day swimming in the hotel's pool. Most of the time, mentors would be with their tributes during the train ride, but considering the amount of business Finnick had been getting lately, he was called to the Capitol a week before the reaping was even held.

The first time Finnick saw Katniss in person, he was entranced. There was no way that this girl, blazing with fire, was the same scrawny, dirty District Twelve Girl that he saw in the reaping. No, this girl was gorgeous with her eye-catching outfit and professionally done makeup. He smirked from the sidelines, clapping his hands with the rest of the audience. It would be a lie to say he wasn't impressed. Seeing her, clasping hands with her district partner, was the first time Finnick thought, although for a very brief moment, that maybe she had a tiny chance.

Quickly Finnick brushed that thought away when he caught sight of the District Two Boy glare heatedly at the girl who stole the show from him. The Boy was massive with arms that were even bigger than Brutus's. A little makeup and handholding wasn't going to stop this boy from snapping Twelve's neck in the Games. But still, the memory of the District Twelve Girl stuck into his head.

"Finnick!" A voice shouts, shaking out of his thinking. Putting on a charming smile, he turns towards to the owner of the voice, Johanna. She's leaning against the table where the rest of the mentors are eating their lunch, they're all waiting for the their tributes to finish training. "So, what do you think?"

"Sorry?" Finnick smirks cockily, resting his head on his palm. Johanna glares at him, mad at him for not even trying to hide his not listening to her.

She nods towards the screens that were plastered on the wall near the buffet. There are about ten of them side by side, each showing off a different section in the training room. "The District Twelve Girl. This "Girl On Fire." What do you think about her?"

Katniss is featured on the ending one, away from the action. She's crouched and trying to figure out how to make a snare.

"What about her? Ten bucks says the District One brute is gonna be the one to take her out," Finnick shrugs, turning back to his food. Just as he picks up his fork, Johanna slams her hands on the table, shaking the table and spilling his water all over. "Now, was that really necessary?"

"I think she's hiding something," Johanna leans down, saying it with complete seriousness. She glances back to the screen and narrows her eyes. "I don't trust her, you don't get muscles like that in District Twelve."

"What muscles!?" Finnick questions her, staring at Johanna as if she's crazy. "That girl has to weigh less than 90 pounds! Jo, I think you're seeing things." Johanna doesn't get mad this time, rolling her eyes before plopping down into the seat across from him.

"You're blind if you can't see the muscles in her biceps," Johanna explains and this time, as Finnick looks closely at the District Twelve Girl's arms, he could see the lean muscle that is barely there, but still present. Her arms aren't as toned as Enobaria, who has trained everyday of her life to become a victor, but slim and feminine like Cashmere's arms.

"Yeah that's what mining coal does to your arms, I guess," Finnick mutters. District Twelve was known for being poor and miserable, citizens in Twelve weren't allowed the same privileges he had growing up. He just figured that everyone there worked until they died.

Haymitch didn't really say anything to make him think otherwise. The middle-aged man was always staggering around, muttering sarcastic comments now and then before either sitting back down with a groan or passing out. Finnick didn't particularly like Haymitch, not like how liked Johanna and Mags. There was no possible way you could keep a conversation with the man, no matter how charming Finnick was.

"All of the District Twelve Girls I've seen before are skin and bones, no muscle whatsoever and this girl doesn't exactly look like a miner," Johanna explains again. "Look at her eyes, she's too alert to be a miner. Most girls from District Twelve would be crying their eyes out by now. She's determined and only confident people can be determined when they're going into the Games. She has some kind of skill." Johanna sighs, frustrated. "I really want to see her in action. Guess I'll just have to wait 'til the Games start though."

Finnick nods slowly, interested in Johanna's observation of the District Twelve Girl. They spend the rest of lunch complaining about their tributes for this year, who show no skill and very little potential.

The first time Finnick met The Girl On Fire, he was astounded. Shocked out of his mind and a little offended even, it never did show on his face though.

Swaggering over the new Capitol favorite, Finnick crunched heavily on one of the sugar cubes he grabbed from his room. Smirking sexily, he stopped right before her when he spotted her headed for the training room. Striking a pose, Finnick locked eyes with her, not saying a word for the first few seconds.

"What do you want, Odair?" The Girl On Fire says bluntly, not looking fazed at his attempt to swoon her. Briefly, Finnick frowns. Well, that was a reaction he wasn't expecting.

Not giving up, Finnick's lips turned up into a smile that would normally turn girls to goo. "Sugar cube?" Extending his hand out to her, he offers her said sweets. "I was hoping to introduce myself but since you obviously know who I am, guess that's out of the picture."

"No thanks," Katniss eyes his hand warily, as if she's expending the sugar cubes to be poisoned. "Is that all?" Finnick shrugs his shoulders, closing his hands around the sweets and popping another into his mouth. Chewing slowly, he looks at her strangely, as if he's thinking really hard of something.

"What about you, Girl on Fire? You don't want me to keep on calling you that, do you?" Finnick questions her, looking genuinely interested in her response.

"Katniss." It's all she replies with. Katniss knows who Finnick Odair is and she also knows that she would be a fool to trust him. Not only was he another District's mentor, but he was also known as a manwhore in District Twelve.

"Well Katniss, usually I don't do this, but you should be honored to go out to dinner with me tonight," Finnick winks at her. In response, Katniss narrows her eyes even further. Was that his way of asking a girl out? Well, it was absolutely terrible and Katniss would have no problem telling him that.

"Are you always so conceited? It's actually pretty sad… But, I'm busy, so if you'll excuse me," Katniss sneers, trying to step past him. Finnick's body blocks her when he chooses to step in front of her to stop her from leaving.

"Whoa there, Katniss! Not so fast," Finnick jokes. "Are you really in such a hurry to make bunny traps?" At first, Katniss looks confused and even fearful, before realization sets in.

"How do you know that!? You weren't in the training center! How do you know that!?" Katniss pushes him back, finding pleasure in his disgruntled face when he stumbles a little. She doesn't give him time to answer, though. "You've been spying on me! I bet you've been feeding information to your tributes, too! What else do you know!?"

"Oops," Finnick says, faking a scared face, as if he's been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. "Should not have told you that. But hey, if you go out to dinner with me, I just might tell you how I found that out." Katniss has stopped pushing him by now, stepping away from him and giving him the nastiest look he's ever received in his life. It takes less than ten seconds, but the awkward silence Finnick is put through makes it feel as if he's been waiting days for a response. Just as he's about to open his mouth, she beats him to it.

"Whatever, Odair," Katniss spits out, side stepping him and walking down the hall.

"Is that a yes?" Finnick yells down after her, smirking at her smart mouthed reply. Feeling good with himself, Finnick strutted back to the elevator to return to his room. Wait… "I didn't tell her a time…"

My first ever Hunger Games fanfic. It's been a long time since I've read the books and so I kinda forget about Finnick's personality, except that he's cheeky. Actually, portraying characters from another book is a lot harder than making your own… I really hope I didn't make them OOC. Please Read and Review. Reviews tend to make me reply faster! :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Here, you guys go. Chapter Two! Let's hope this chapter satisfies you. I was planning something differently at first but basically, when I write the plot just comes to me and I forego all previous plans**

Chapter Two

"So Fire Girl, the private training sessions are today," Finnick smiles, swirling his red wine in the clear glass he is holding his hand.

"Yeah, what about it?" Katniss muttered, shoveling her own food into her mouth.

"What are you going to do for the Gamemakers?" Finnick questions her, trying to catch her eyes, which were only focused on her food. Katniss didn't grace his question with an answer, instead choosing to continue digging into the plate of delicious food in front of her. It was the best food she's ever tasted in her life, even better than the feast that was offered on the train. "Ok then… So, what are your hobbies? I like to fish, go swimming, and show off my God-given looks to the—", he didn't get to finish his last sentence.

Katniss threw her fork on top of the now empty plate, the clanking noise vibrating throughout the empty restaurant that Finnick rented just for the two of them. She leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looked at Finnick intensely.

"Look, Odair, I don't know what you're playing at but, I don't trust your "genuine want-to-get-to-know-you" act. So why don't we just cut this whole thing short and get to the point. Why am I here?" Katniss asked fiercely.

"Wow! You really ate that fast!" Finnick stared at her empty plate strangely, then looked to his own, which wasn't even halfway done yet. "Did you like it? Care for seconds? This is my favorite Capitol restaurant; I found it one night when I left one of my old sponsor's huge house parties. Well, they called it a party, but all they had to eat was crackers and cheese and expensive, but absolutely disgusting, champagne to drink."

Katniss quirked her eyebrows at his response, first looking confused, then looking pissed off at being ignored. "That's it! I'm leaving!" She made a scene of stomping to her feet and storming towards the door.

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Finnick asked, getting to his own feet and following her to the door.

"I'll walk," Katniss grumbled, reaching for the door.

"Not unless you want to get punished. It was hard enough convincing Seneca Crane to let you come here with me and that cost me a lot of money and well… those guys," Finnick looks outside where multiple guards are stationed around the restaurant. Letting Katniss outside of the residence was a huge risk, if she managed to escape not only would Finnick be severely disciplined, maybe even killed, but Seneca Crane would be in jeopardy of his position as Head Gamemaker, too. So, Seneca Crane was taking extreme safety measures to ensure that Katniss stayed in the restaurant, and therefore in the Games.

"What are you playing at, Odair?" Katniss snarled, turning back around to face the District Four mentor.

"Odair, Odair, Odair. Is it really so hard to call me Finnick?" he joked around.

"Answer my question!" Katniss demanding, striding closer to him, trying to intimidate him although he was probably a foot taller than her and could easily overpower her.

"Why don't we finish our dinner?" Finnick inquired, already walking back to their table. "I know that their raspberry cheesecake is divine." Katniss followed after him, shoulders tense and expression stern.

Finnick pulled out her chair, once again for the second time this night, which

Katniss outright ignored this time. Instead she walked around him and plopped down in his old seat, his unfinished plate of grilled fish now in front of her.

"I'm just a District Twelve Girl. If it's your tributes you're worried about, you should focus on District One and Two instead," Katniss announced, looking at Finnick sternly.

"You're not here because I'm worried about my tributes. This year's tributes aren't exactly promising for me," Finnick shrugged, he pushed a button under the table which triggered a holographic screen to appear in front of the both of them. "Hmm… Raspberry cheesecake for me… What was it you wanted again? You like chocolate?"

"I don't want anything from you, Finnick," Katniss said coldly. For a second, Finnick faltered in his movements before a smile spread across his face.

"You called me Finnick!" He proclaimed cheekily, his lips stretched wide over his overly white teeth. "Now was that so bad?" He didn't give her a chance to respond before focusing back on the screen in front of him, "I'll just get you a crepe then… Should I get the banana-nutella one or the strawberry-crème cheese one? Screw it, I like the strawberry one, so I'll just get you that one." Pushing his fingers in to the holographic screen before him, it only took a moment before the order was finished and the screen disappeared with a quiet, but high-pitched _ding._

Katniss didn't even bother questioning him this time, her mouth was glued shut and she stared at Finnick blandly.

"Look, Katniss, I find you interesting," Finnick confessed, finally getting to the point. "I think that there's more to you than what I see on all the broadcasts that are always featured everywhere in the Capitol."

"So what?" Katniss didn't even flinch when the table opened up and their freshly prepared dessert raised from underneath the surface.

"So, I wanted to talk to you before the Games started," Finnick explained, he looked sincere and his eyes locked with hers. Katniss didn't buy it for one second. "I don't know if I'll ever get this chance again."

"Cut it out, Finnick! How did you know what I was doing in the training center?" Katniss grunted, grabbed a clean fork from the pristine, white napkin folded on the table and viciously stabbing at her food, tearing off a large chunk and stuffing it into her mouth, chewing on the delicacy grudgingly.

"Oh, there's cameras in the training center to let mentors know how their tributes are doing," Finnick said nonchalantly.

"Cameras!? That's it? Cameras!?" Katniss looked enraged for a moment, to think that she thought he knew something more… dangerous, something he could use against her. Then, she laughed. She laughed so hard, tears escaped from her eyes and when she finished her stomach hurt. "Really? That's it. Wow, you really had me going there, Finnick."

By this time, Finnick paused in his chewing, his fork frozen next to his mouth, and was staring at her as if she was mentally insane, which is probably how she appeared right now. "Did you expect me to know something else?" Snapping out of his stupor, Finnick engulfed the food on his fork. Sensually staring at her, he slowly dragged the utensil from his mouth, making a scene of licking it when he was finished. Leisurely, he chewed his food, and then leaned across the table towards Katniss, just a little bit. "Maybe something a bit more…juicier?"

This time, Katniss was the one to smirk, backing up into her chair and getting comfortable. "Nothing that you need to worry about, Odair."

Defeated, Finnick went back into his original position. Faking an over exaggerated look of hurt and defeat he just said, "Back to Odair again? Already?"

"Stop complaining and hurry up and finish your food," Katniss demanded. Gazing at the clock built into the wall, that read 5:04PM, she huffed in annoyance. "I have my private training session in less than an hour, so we have to leave."

"It'll take us less than ten minutes to drive back to the Hunger Games residence," Finnick rolled his eyes.

"I don't care, I'm tired and I want to go back. You got your hour with me, aren't you satisfied?" Katniss hissed. "Now, let's go."

Finnick sighed in exasperation before rising from his seat and waling towards the exit of the restaurant, his food already prepaid. "Ok fine, Katniss. You win! Let's go." Opening the door for her, the guards immediately surrounded them, blocking off all escape, even though the car was hardly ten feet from the door.

Irritated at being so constricted, Katniss strode in front of Finnick, well as far as the guards would allow her, and ripped the door open. Not even bothering to look back at Finnick, she crawled into the car, and took her seat. Quietly, Finnick went in after her, sitting right besides her until their knees touched. There was no denying that Finnick was attractive, even Katniss could admire his looks. However, his cocky personality was a turnoff for her and made her feel nothing but disgust at touching him.

She moved her legs away from him, making it noticeable so that he knew that she didn't appreciate him touching her. Finnick smirked at this, crossing his arms behind his head and slouching in his seat, spreading his legs even wider until they, once again, made contact with Katniss's.

"Do you mind?" Katniss snapped at him.

"What? I'm just getting comfortable," Finnick explained, looking at her innocently.

"Yeah right," Katniss retaliated. However she let it go and instead, slid further away from him.

The rest of the ride was filled with awkward silence and Finnick trying to joke around, which was retaliated by Katniss's unladylike snorts. Arriving at the residence was a relief for the both of them and Katniss immediately exited the car, not even saying goodbye to Finnick, who was just getting out.

"See you around, Fire Girl!" Finnick called after her. Funny, this reminded him of the last time they departed. Unhurriedly, Finnick strode to the elevator, which would take him to his District Floor. Smirking to himself, he felt oddly satisfied with how their meeting went.

Finnick had never had to chase after a girl before. They always came flocking to him, whether he liked it or not. While it was flattering in his childhood, his looks became the bane of his existence when he grew up and his attractive appearance ended him up in prostitution.

Katniss was the only girl who he attempted to woo and was promptly shut down by. He liked her spunk, even though it really started to irritate him at certain times in the restaurant. He liked her personality, which was completely independent and strong, but most importantly he was attracted to her secrets. He knew she was hiding something. That laughing scene she made in the restaurant proved it for him and he would do anything to find out what she was hiding from the Capitol.

**Aww yeah, Finnick wants to find out her secrets. I hope I did what I was shooting for and creating a future romance feel, but also keeping things distant and tense between the two of them. Finnick doesn't seem like the type to fall in love with a girl from a few measly meetings. Just like how he explained with Annie, "She just crept up on me." I think that would be how it is with Katniss. Read and Review for faster updates.**


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Three

Waiting her turn to enter the private training room, Katniss nervously tapped her right foot. By now, the District One female just walked out from the door and most of the remaining tributes looked just as scared as she felt. Well, District Two just looked bored, the female picking at her fingernails and the male resting his head on top of his palm. The District One female looked confident when she strode out of the room, chest puffed out and head held high.

Cato was the next to be called in, which he looked relieved about. Standing from his seat quickly and striding into the room without a backwards glance. Katniss stared at the wall in front of her for the next ten minutes. Lost in her thoughts, she thought of her meeting with Finnick. Why was he so interested in her? Out of all of the more promising tributes, why choose her to pick on?

The door opened and Cato openly smirked at her as he began to pass by the remaining tributes, either going back to his own room or the public training room, which was open 24 hours for all tributes.

"Finished your date with the Capitol whore?" Cato taunted, stopping right besides where she was seating. "Tell me, is he as good in bed as everyone thinks he is?"

Katniss didn't bother to respond, crossing her legs in front of her and keeping her eyes straight.

"Whatever Fire Girl. I'm sure he'll be devastated when he sees me tearing you apart in the arena. Your little stunt at the Tribute Parade wasn't a smart idea. I'm going to be the one to end your life," Cato grinned. Katniss narrowed her eyes, just slightly, and clenched her hands into fists.

"C'mon, Cato. Don't waste your breath speaking to a District Twelve rat. She's almost too pathetic to kill," Clove, who had just walked out of the room, came across the scene of her District partner mocking the filth before her. That was fast, Katniss thought inwardly. It took less than five minutes for Clove to show off her skills. But considering that Clove has probably trained her whole life for the Games, Katniss highly doubted that Clove needed more than a minute to show how lethal she was. Clove sent Katniss a wicked smile. "Watch your back, Fire Girl." With that, the both of them walked out of the automatic doors and headed to their next destination.

"What's this about a date with Finnick, Katniss? You told me you were going to the training room," Peeta accused besides her.

"That stupid, jealous witch from District Four must have told them!" Katniss raged, glaring holes into the back of said girl.

"Wait! You're not going to deny it? You went on a date with Finnick? Finnick Odair! C'mon Katniss, that man is known for playing with women as if they're toys!" Peeta hissed trying to knock some sense into the girl he's had a crush on since Kindergarten.

"Relax, Peeta. It wasn't even a date, just a meeting of sorts," Katniss grumbled, slouching back into her seat. Then, quick as a flash, she was back up again. "And who are you to tell me what to do!? You're always acting like the Golden Boy, always friendly, always nice but you just stopped and stared when Cato was threatening me! What's that about, Peeta?"

"I just didn't want to—"

"You know what? Forget it! I don't need you to protect me anyways," Katniss scoffed, turning away from him. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Peeta was the first to speak.

"Look, Katniss, I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you get hurt. Finnick Odair isn't exactly the one-woman type of guy," Peeta exhaled, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"I can take care of myself, Peeta. Don't worry about me," Katniss growled, mad at him for trying to baby her. "I'm not interesting in Odair. Our meeting was strictly professional." That was a lie, thinking of Finnick as he stared at her with smoldering eyes, licking off the remains of his raspberry cheesecake from the fork in his hand.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to get close to Finnick Odair," Peeta said, relieved. Katniss didn't reply back to that. She really didn't understand or appreciate Peeta's insistence to keep her away from the Capitol playboy.

Peeta is a good person and Katniss knew it. She still owed him for saving her life all those years ago. The bread that gave her hope and allowed her to live another day would never be forgotten to her. But at the same time, she resented him for giving her that bread. Katniss would do anything to go back home to Prim and Gale, and how was she going to do that and still repay her debt to Peeta. If he didn't give her the bread, if he didn't save her life, she wouldn't feel obligated to help him.

Before long, it was Peeta's turn and he turned towards her with a reassuring smile and a few supportive words. She nodded back at him, and offered him some words of advice too. Finally being left alone, Katniss was allowed to properly think about what she was going to do. Everything was so confusing to her. She wanted to save Peeta, really, but she wanted to see her little sister more. Without her, Prim wouldn't be able to survive. Gale had a hard enough time providing for his family alone, so how was he going to feed both of their families now?

And what was with Finnick Odair? She knew all about his escapades with the rich and powerful Capitol women, but she was sure he had never went after a tribute before. What was his deal? What was he looking for? She couldn't offer him anything. She had never even properly met him before he abruptly asked her out on that, whatever it was. Katniss wouldn't call it a date, even if Finnick did. She believed that both parties had to be willing if it were to be called a date, and she in no way wanted to go on that…thing…. with Odair.

A slight noise knocked her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Peeta walking through the doors. He looked exhausted and worried, but still offered her a reassuring smile and a, "Good luck, Katniss!"

"District Twelve Female," a clear, robotic voice was called throughout the empty waiting area. Katniss rose from her seat, nodded at Peeta, and walked through the doors.

_Finnick_

"Really, Finnick!? What were you thinking? Going on a date with the District Twelve Girl?" Johanna raged at seeing him, she had stormed to his room the second she heard of his plans, hoping to stop him, but was too late. Instead of going back to her room, she instead paced outside of his room, unsettling his tributes, who were waiting to go to the private training room. They had finally just returned and had silently gone into their own rooms to allow them privacy.

"What about it? I go on dates all the time," Finnick lazily replied, sitting down on the reclining chair and staring at the screen, which would later tell the scores of all the tributes.

"Wow, Finnick. Well if that's your amazing reply, then I am stunned speechless. We're victors, Finnick! Do you even know how bad it looks when a victor goes out with a tribute? A tribute that probably won't even survive!" Johanna seethed. Still standing, Johanna glared down at the now comfortable District Four victor.

"Don't tell me, Jo! Don't tell me that the infamous Johanna Masen has, too, fallen for my amazingly good looks. I really thought that you would be able to resist. Shameful, shameful," Finnick shook his head, looking disappointed. Johanna in reply, hit him in the arm, piling all of her strength into the blow. "Ow! Jo! Watch out! You're pretty strong, you know!" Finnick cradled the wound, staring at Johanna as if he was shocked, although he knew Johanna well enough to expect the hit.

"Shut up, Finnick! This isn't exactly a great situation. If I know, and Cashmere knows, and Brutus knows, and Enobaria knows, then who else does? Hell, everyone knows! Well, at least all of the victors… Cashmere really tries her best to keep the gossip alive," Johanna grumbled. "If we know, then so does President Snow. And he's going to be furious!"

"Aww, Jo~ Are you worried about me? Don't worry, the worst he could do is increase the amount of business I'll be getting," Finnick soothed, smirking. He didn't exactly enjoy his occupation, but by now he just felt numb every time he met a new client.

"Don't joke around, Finnick. You could have very well screwed up any chance of survival this girl had," Johanna said darkly. "He's going to put her through hell, just because of your little date."

"He wouldn't do that," Finnick replied, finally looking serious. "That girl is the Capitol's favorite right now, if President Snow makes it look like he's deliberately trying to kill her, it'll bring bad publicity."

Johanna looked at Finnick silently for a moment, before finally nodding in agreement. "Fine, that sounds like reasonable thinking to me. But remember that there aren't rules in the arena." Music blared from the screen Finnick was previously paying attention to, signaling the announcement of the tribute scores.

"I have to leave. I need to review this with my tributes," Johanna muttered, saying her goodbyes and exiting the room through the elevator in the corner.

Mags, also hearing the music, stumbled into the room slowly. Finnick smiled at her from his place on the chair and stood up to help her to her seat. Mags smiled happily, mumbling something that sounded like a "thank you", and patted Finnick on the cheek. His own tributes also unlocked their doors, stepping out of their room cautiously, and Finnick realized that they were eavesdropping on his conversation with Johanna by the looks of their faces.

Sitting near their mentors, the girl making sure to seat closest to Finnick, they waiting for the news. Both uninterested by Caesar Flickermen's introduction, everyone in the room sat up straight when the scores were finally released.

"First up is District One's Marvel! With a score of 9, he's definitely in the Game, isn't he?" Caesar crows on the screen, looking proud of Marvel's score. The next couple of scores come and both tribute and mentor lean forward, emerged into the information. The beautiful girl from District One also receives a 9, and the malicious volunteers from District Two both receive matching scores of 10.

"Look out for those four," Finnick warns them. The boy nods furiously, clinging to the information, however the girl slides up to Finnick getting too close for comfort.

"You know, the Careers asked me to join them," she whispers quietly, looking at her district partner, who is too focused on the screen to notice her. Finnick shrugs her away.

"Then I guess you already have a plan," Finnick eyes her seriously.

"Yup!" She pops the "p" and grins up at him. "I'm confident that I have a chance," the girl says. Finnick doesn't reply back to her, however he is surprised when she gets a high enough score, which only boosts her confidence. When her score disappears from the screen, she stands up, looking happy and satisfied.

"What are you doing?" Finnick asks her, eyes still on the screen, soaking up the information.

"I'm going to my room," she replies, as if it's obvious. Finnick rolls his eyes at her, amazed at her stupidity.

"You're not even going to look at the other's scores?" he asks her incredulously.

"Why would I? The only competition I have is District One and Two," she explains, shrugging her shoulder.

"Whatever, then. Just go to your room," Finnick mutters, annoyed with her ignorance.

"You know… If you decide that you're lonely…" she drifts off, before walking back to her room, making sure to through a suggestive look over her shoulder. Finnick shakes his head, irritated, but he's comforted when Mags pats his knees reassuringly. His male is still watching the screen, seemingly the only smart tribute he has this year.

District 10s scores pass by on the screen and Finnick isn't surprised when the large boy from District Eleven scores a ten. However, when Katniss's score pops onto the screen, he rises to his feet in shock and astonishment.

"An eleven!? She got an eleven?" Finnick questions himself. His male tribute's eyes open in shock and his shoulders droop in defeat. "She did even better than the District Two guy…" With that, the screen goes black and everyone returns to their rooms. However Finnick lays awake in bed long after the broadcast, pondering over what could have gotten her that eleven.

* * *

There you have it! Chapter Three~ Be sure to read and review! ^^ I've already written Chapter Four, but I don't like posting chapters without having the next one ready, so I'll post it when I finish Chapter Five. But, I'm really busy with school and work and finals, and I can't believe I managed to finish Chapter Four today because I only have three hours of sleep last night, so it depends on how motivated I am to finish the next chapter… So review for faster updates~


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own the Hunger Games. It belongs to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Four

Still grinning, proud of her achievement, Katniss took the elevator, wanting to go back to the training room. When the elevator came to an abrupt stop on the District Four floor, Katniss was quick to wipe the happy smile off of her face.

The doors opened and Katniss was faced with the district four male tribute. He just stared at her, seemingly intimidated by her blank expression and the score she recently received, before entering. Inwardly, Katniss let out a sigh of relief, happy that it wasn't Finnick.

"Oh, hey Fire Girl!" Finnick called from across the room, sitting in front of the screen, watching one of the terrible Capitol soap dramas they had on. He was quick to rise to feet after seeing her, "Come to visit—"

Faster than Katniss even knew possible; she pressed the close button on the elevator, which caused the doors to swiftly shut. Even Katniss was stunned at how fast the doors closed, expecting a few second delay rather than the immediate reaction. However, as she began to really think about it, she figured it was for safety reason. In the case that another tribute was running away from a Career, they would be safe the second they reached the elevator. Katniss seriously doubted many people could outrun a Career, though. The Careers have been training their whole life in agility, basic survival skills, and weaponry.

"I thought you liked Finnick…" The quiet voice of the District Four boy rung out and she turned to him, almost forgetting that he was there.

"No ways! Is that what he's been telling everybody?" Katniss denied, enraged at Finnick for spreading rumors about her.

"No, but I head Johanna Mason, the mentor for District Seven came to our floor not long ago. She was talking about your date and well… If you went on a date with him, I just kind of assumed you liked him…" he explains to her.

"It wasn't a date. It was a meeting," Katniss mutters to him. The next few seconds are spent in awkward silence before he turns to look at her.

"I'm Gabriel," he introduces himself to her, holding out his hand. "I don't know if Finnicks been talking about us or not, hell, I don't even think that he remembers my name. But, I guess I just wanted to let you know."

"Katniss Everdeen," she replies to him, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "I'm from District Twelve."

"I know who you are Katniss, everyone is talking about you," Gabriel laughs. "Everyone is wondering how you managed to get that eleven. But honestly, you don't seem any more dangerous than Cato to me." The door opens; signaling their arrival to the training room but Katniss doesn't get out right away.

"And you? Are you wondering about how I got that eleven?" Katniss eyes him warily, untrustingly. The boy shrugs in reply.

"Well of course I am," he confesses. "But I'm not going to badger you about it. I doubt you would tell me anyways." Katniss nods, it was true that she would never let her secret out. It gave her an advantage over the others. If the Careers managed to find out her skill with a bow, they would make absolute sure that she couldn't get to her chosen weapon in the Games and she doubted she could survive without it.

"You're right." Gabriel, who was just walking out the door, paused to look back at her. Katniss steps out after him and continues walking, however she looked over her should to the District Four Male. "You're right to think that I wouldn't tell you."

The second she steps into the training room, the atmosphere seems to tense. The Careers pause in their training and Cato grins at her, marching over to her.

"So Fire Girl, seems like you've been hiding something from us," he says in a playful voice, although his body language is tense and ready. "An eleven, huh? Say, you don't even need to tell us your skills… How about you join us in the Games?" He says this as if she should be honored.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Katniss sneers, trying to walk past him. However, he is quick to grab her arm in a grip so harsh, Katniss winces in pain.

"Not so fast, Girl on Fire. Either you join us in the arena or you become our number one target," Cato warns, his grip on her tightening with each word. For a second, Katniss started to become terrified that he would break her arm and ruin all chances she had of winning in the arena, and she struggles viciously. The other Careers laughed from the sidelines, amused at the scene.

"Let me go!" Katniss demands, pushing against him and trying to pull her arm free.

"Not unless you agree," Cato says calmly, unfazed by her squirming.

"Hey, let her go!" Finnick's strong voice rings out from the entrance. He had decided to go to the training room to give Katniss a pleasant surprise, and maybe to try to coax a few secrets out of her.

Cato reacts immediately, letting Katniss's arm go and she backs up a safe distance, however keeps a wary glare at the Career's leader.

"What, Odair? Scared for your girlfriend," Cato taunts, turning towards the infamous District Four Victor.

"Tributes aren't supposed to fight before they are released in the arena," Finnick reminds Cato of one of the few tribute rules. "You would have been punished should anything of happened to her." Cato doesn't take the warning well, his face turning red with anger.

"I'm going to save your girlfriend for last. I won't even use my sword, that's too quick. I'm going to use a knife, hell maybe I'll drown her," Cato growls out. "How ironic would that be? District Four is well known for its sea. I could kill her with the very essence you associate with your home."

"That's enough, District One," Finnick stops Cato before he could say anything else. He looks unfazed by Cato's threats and he talks with civility, like he's speaking to a child. "Just go back to your spear throwing or whatever. I don't have time for you." Cato looks enraged at being treated like a kid, but he stomps off anyways. Returning to his fellow Careers, Glimmer tries to comfort him, clinging to him and murmuring sweet nothings to him, although from over Cato's shoulder, she's throwing Finnick a seductive smile.

Katniss storms up to Finnick, pushing into his chest. "I could have took care of myself!" she yells at him. "You made me look weak!"

Rather than replying, Finnick grabs at her hands and holds it into his chest. In response to this, Katniss furiously tries to pull away from him. However, he doesn't let up, instead sliding his free hand around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"What are you doing, Odair!?" she screeches. "Let go of me!"

"Nah, I find this position quite comfortable," Finnick purrs into her ear, holding her into his chest firmly. Infuriated and blinded by embarrassment and humiliation, Katniss reels back her head and slams it forward with as much force as she could muster.

Finnick stumbles back blindly, completely in shock and clutching his nose where her forehead hit most prominently. It's bleeding and Finnick temporarily loses his control, something that hasn't happened in years, and curses.

However, immediately after being let go, Katniss falls to the floor. Clutching her head, she groans in pain.

"You, bastard! You, bastard, my head!" Katniss doesn't even comprehending what she's saying, her head is pounding and it feels as if there is a constant pounding in her skull.

It takes a few moments for Katniss to pull herself together, realizing that she's the center of attention in the training room. She shoots up, hands still gripping her head because she feels that if she were to let go, everything would fall apart. Stumbling to her feet, Katniss moans in pain when she finally stands on her feet. To her, it feels as if the room is spinning and she wants to puke from the unpleasant sensation that is flowing throughout her.

Vaguely, Katniss could see Careers laughing from their corner of the room. Cato seems to have completely forgotten about their previous confrontation and it looks as if he's going to start crying from laughter anytime now. The sight of seeing the both of them in pain must have brought extreme pleasure to the sick District One boy.

"You, you actually head-butted me!" Finnick sputters, he keeps a firm grip on his bloody nose, causing his voice to sound slightly nasally. "I think my nose is broken!"

"Lucky you," Katniss mutters sarcastically. "I think I cracked my skull." Finally, the training room mentors seem to snap out of their shock at the scene and they surge forward to grab at the girl that injured a victor, a very important victor. Katniss looks at them, just now realizing that she just injured a victor, which is absolute taboo. She looks scared for a moment; thinking that they would punish her family for her stupid, blind actions.

However, Finnick hold out his hand to them. He glares at Katniss for a second, then his expression softens and he starts to grin.

"Wow, Girl on Fire. You're really something else. Your name matches you well," he smirks and Katniss looks at him, shocked. Confused that he would take it so well. She _broke_ his nose.

Then she grins, happy with the release. She's been wanted to hit Finnick from the moment she _met _him. "Well you know, just living up to my reputation. Personally, I think I did you a favor. You look ten times better than before!"

"Sorry, I can't say the same for you. I doubt that any type of Capitol plastic surgery can fix your face," Finnick replies back smoothly, as if he's complimenting her rather than insulting her.

"Really know? Then why are you so obsessed with me?" Katniss retaliated, but at the same time she was also curious.

"What are you talking about? I was just coming down here to help my tribute out," he nods over to where Gabriel is still blatantly staring at the two of them. "But since you decided to rearrange my face, I think I'll be going to the medical center to fix this." He looks down at his bleeding nose, indicating to it, before turning around and striding out the door.

Katniss watches him leave incredulously. For a moment, she feels guilty for head-butting him, but remembering how he crushed her body to his, she felt a surge of hatred flow through her. Who exactly did Finnick Odair think he was?

* * *

And that concludes Chapter Four. Just as before, chapter five is finished but I'll be waiting to complete Chapter Six before I post anything. And wow~ 37 Reviews! I'm hoping to hit 50 before I post my new chapter. Since I had 13 reviews on my first chapter, I don't find that too unrealistic. Personally, I really like my chapter five. But, I'm not revealing anything. I'm thinking about starting a new story, too, but than that would be me juggling three stories at once, which is completely unrealistic. However, winter break is almost upon us… Once again, I encourage everyone to create a Finnick/Katniss fanfiction. I think I read them all…


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does, though.

* * *

Chapter Five

The next morning, Finnick wakes up at five in the morning. He manages to climb out of his client's massive bed and dress in order to reach the official Hunger Games residence by seven.

He's covered in sweat and all he wants to do is take a shower and scrub away the filth that he feels he's consumed in. Finnick wouldn't dare take a shower at his client's house, although he has done it before. As far as he's concerned, it's morning and his job is officially over. He wouldn't want to stay any longer than he needed to.

The first couple of weeks when Finnick started "working", he would stand in the shower for hours and scrub at his dirtied body ferociously. After so long, Finnick realized that the filth he was really feeling wasn't coming from the outside, it was coming from inside him. Although showering did make him feel somewhat cleaner, Finnick would feel tainted, guilty even, for the rest of the day. Finnick felt as if it was his fault that he was getting sold as a prostitute to the Capitol because of President Snow's hold on his family and friends. He still felt the guilt today, ten long years later, sitting heavily on his chest, just under his skin, in his heart.

He muses over these thoughts until he reaches the Hunger Games residence and uses his Victor's key to enter. Flashing the identification in front of the monitor, it only takes a second for the scanner to recognize the barcode and the doors snap open. Dragging his feet over to the elevator, Finnick slouches his shoulders heavily. The scene is clear and Finnick no longer has to keep his captivating, playboy act up for the people. For some reason, today he feels ten times worse than usual. He doesn't even think he could perform his signature smirk right now.

Although Finnick feels disgusting, he doesn't go to his District floor to take a shower. Instead he finds the highest number button the elevator has, and leans back against the clear, see-through walls as the machine lifts towards the roof of the building. Finnick could remember how he first found this place, back when he spent his first year in the Capitol as a mentor and his tribute died. Feeling guilty and inadequate as a mentor, Finnick decided to leave for some privacy and was grateful when, disorientated and depressed, he pressed the only button that he didn't recognize.

Stumbling around on the bare rooftop, Finnick had finally found the perfect seat, faced towards where he knew his District was, and overlooked the view. Finnick was stunned breathless at the sight, it was the first time he finally noticed just how large the Capitol was and it made him feel small. District Four was only a fraction of the size of this gigantic city, well excluding the ocean that stretched out forever from the shores of the beach. Suddenly, Finnick was really grateful to live his life in District Four. Sitting on the sand and listening to the waves crash against the shore was where Finnick truly belonged, not walking around on the streets, smiling for cameras and waving to the fangirls and fanboys.

Now, he desperately wanted to relieve that moment. To face where his home was, to face the endless ocean that he grew up with and the glowing orange sunset and to maybe catch a glimpse of the mystical green flash he always looked forward to seeing. When the skies were clear of any clouds and the ocean seemed larger than usual and the last rays of sun finally disappeared from behind the blue seas, the green flash would appear before his eyes, faster than a millisecond, and be gone from the world without a trace.

It was a phenomenon he always wondered about, ever since his dad pointed it out to him when he was a young kid. Finnick associated it with the crabs that would clamber around on the sand in the dead of night, then disappear into their little holes the second they felt a human's glance land on them. He associated them with the whales, which would visit them every winter and then leave to God knows where. He would associate it with the dolphins, which would playfully jump around right within sight, then vanish just when you wanted to see more of them. Most recently, he began to associate that green flash with Katniss, a mysterious phenomenon that he could question all he wanted but still wouldn't find answers from.

The elevator doors opened before him and Finnick was more than shocked, but not even slightly irritated, to see said girl crouched towards the end of the roof, looking out at the city. Well, think of the devil and he shall appear, right? Was that even the right saying? It was something that Finnick had heard one of the Capitol citizens say once.

Katniss, at hearing the sliding of the doors, looked back at him and Finnick responded with a wave of his hand and a smirk. Truthfully, Finnick didn't know how he was even able to do it, he felt so physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. However, he just brushed it off as habit, something he's done so many times he didn't even know what he was doing until it was done.

"Isn't it ironic that the Girl on Fire would be out here watching the sunrise?" Finnick purred, swaggering over to her and taking a seat besides her.

"What sunrise?" Katniss muttered, turning away to look back at the city. The buildings stretched so far over the land, so tall in structure and so many of them, that she wouldn't even be able to see the sun unless it was at its highest point in the sky.

"That's true," Finnick agreed, searching his brain for things to say to her. However before he could find a subject to focus on, she interrupted him.

"You smell like sex." Katniss was blunt and uncaring about what she had just said, but to Finnick it felt like a million, different people were judging him.

"How would you know what sex smells like, Katniss?" He said throatily, with a suggestive smile. Katniss didn't bother to respond to him, shrugging her shoulders. Normally, Katniss would throw an insult at him or something of the sort but right now she was too tired to even try.

Finnick frowned, just now starting to notice the dark and prominent bags under her eyes and her slumped form.

"Hey now Fire Girl, you're not allowed to spend your whole night partying and staying up late just yet. You need to win the games first," Finnick joked.

"The odds aren't exactly in my favor and you know it," Katniss growled, irritated at him for playing around with her situation. Whereas she tried everything she could to make it look like she was strong and unbreakable, Katniss was terrified. She was terrified of that skinny guy from District One who threw a spear with frightening accuracy, she was terrified of the District Two girl who threw knives so swiftly and with such precision Katniss only needed to blink to miss it, and most of all she was terrified of that monstrous boy from District Two who could snap her neck with a twist of his arm.

"That eleven says otherwise," Finnick argued.

"What's a number going to do against a group of Careers out for your blood?" Katniss spat, her eyes narrowing. She hated her situation and she hated the Careers and, mostly, she hated the Capitol. Finnick looked as if he was going to say something, but his own exhaustion started to set in and he just sighed and imitated her slouching posture.

For a second Katniss looked surprised to see him look so weak and vulnerable, but she didn't question it. He was seeing her in one of her weakest moments, so who was she to taunt him?

"Is it even worth it to win?" Her voice broke at the end, and she thought of the consequences that would come with winning. She would forever be under the Capitol's rule, a pawn to them, never free to do what she wanted. If she were to die out there, there would be no more suffering, no more pain, just peace. Then, Katniss thought of Prim. Prim, who wouldn't be able to handle Katniss's death, would probably go into depression just like their mom. Katniss seriously doubted that Prim could survive without her, even with Gale's help. "Never mind, don't answer that."

Finnick turned his head towards Katniss, and his eyes were so expressive in that one moment. They spoke of hardships and depression, but strength. For a second, Katniss admired him. Even if he was just a Capitol manwhore, Katniss could respect his strength, if only for this one moment.

"So Fire Girl, you excited for the big ceremony today?" Finnick, for once, didn't speak as if he was trying to seduce her. Instead, sitting up on the roof with him besides her, reminded her of her and Gale's early morning meetings before they went hunting. She felt like she was home, and it was something she appreciated Finnick for immensely.

Katniss snorted, resting her head on her hand. "Yeah, sure."

"What are you going for? Fiery?" Finnick asked, and although it was a logical thought, Katniss couldn't imagine how spitting insults at Caesar Flickerman the whole time would charm the people enough to give her sponsors.

"I'm not exactly a people person if you haven't noticed. I'm pretty hopeless," Katniss admitted. Right in that moment, Katniss vastly regretted her personality, knowing that it sponsors could be the difference between life and death in the arena.

"No kidding? I thought that we were best friends this whole time! You mean… we aren't?"

Katniss scowled at Finnick before turning her head away from him.

"I'm just kidding, Katniss. I mean, yeah, not gonna lie you, you're terrible in the people department. But, your sister likes you, I think, so you can't be a complete witch," Finnick trailed off towards the end. "Just think that you're speaking to your sister, I guess."

"Wow, thanks, excellent advice, Mr. Odair! I'll just look into that crowd of freaks and imagine they are my sweet, innocent little sister! So easy." Sarcasm coated her every word. However, Finnick didn't look offended. Instead, he looked amused, as if she said something funny.

"Look, Katniss, I didn't say it was going to be easy. But the least you can do is try, what's the worse that could happen?"

And it was true, Katniss agreed inwardly, because if she didn't try then she would automatically lose potential sponsors. They spent the next few minutes in silence, but rather than awkward, it was comfortable this time around. Katniss thought over his advice, and Finnick reveled in her quiet presence, finally able to relax and let down his mask in front of another person who was just as stressed out as he was.

When the sky finally began to brighten, the two of them stood in silence and walked towards the only elevator on the roof. Katniss had to prepare for the ceremony and Finnick needed to help his own tributes. It didn't take long for the elevator to land on the District Twelve floor and as the door opened, Finnick gripped Katniss's arm. She turned to look at him, not irritated but not happy either, and Finnick looked into her eyes seriously.

"Good luck, Girl on Fire."

* * *

I have finished! And I love this chapter. Shows us that Finnick and Katniss are human. And ohmigod, those reviews! I asked for 50 and I got more~ Sorry, it was my birthday yesterday so I couldn't post anything… I guess those reviews are my presents from you though~

And to the person who said Cato is from District Two, thank you! I already knew that, I've read the book a billion times but when I write I tend to drift and I do stuff like that. And I don't really like reading my own stories over again, which means I hate editing them, so there's probably a lot of problems like that in my story :( Sorry, sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Six

"Finally decided to show your face, Sweetheart?" Haymitch grumbled from his spot on the couch. Katniss ignored him, walking past him and to her room; she just wanted to cool down before she was put on display for all of Panem.

Shutting the door behind her, Katniss plopped down on to her bed. It was soft and fluffy and completely foreign to Katniss. Before coming to the Capitol, before getting reaped, Katniss would sleep curled on the ground using a shirt as a pillow and one of her jackets as a blanket. The one bed that they could afford was given to Prim and her mother to sleep on. It was used and dirty and didn't feel nearly as good as the bed she was laying on right now but it cost her a week's worth of the money she gained from hunting. Thinking about that bed, Katniss started to feel homesick. She would probably never get to see that old bed again…

Vaguely, Katniss could hear the shower running, the sound of running water echoing throughout the walls of her room. Peeta must be showering. Katniss saw no point in it, once they were put in the hands of their prep team, they would be scrubbed down and prepped up regardless of if they bathed or not.

Harsh pounded sounded from her door and Katniss sighed from her sprawled out position on the bed. Couldn't she just get five minutes of peace for once? Between Haymitch's irritating insistence, Peeta's concerned rambling, and Finnick's smooth questions, Katniss had no time to herself.

Flinging the door open, Katniss crossed her arms and faced Haymitch impatiently.

"What!?" Katniss demanded, rather than questioned.

"Where were you?" Haymitch growled, leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of liquor in one hand, he was obviously not in a good mood.

"Why does it matt—"

"You were with Odair," he accused before she could finish. Katniss set her lips into a firm line and stared at Haymitch blankly, not willing to reply to that. "Look Sweetheart, I get that you're star struck and all by the God almighty Finnick Odair, but—"

"Oh God, Haymitch! You _actually_ think that I _like_ Finnick Odair?" Katniss fumed. As if she could ever like that playboy! Not in that context, no ways.

But, as she began to recall the man from upstairs, the man that looked tired and exhausted and not at all like how the tabloids pictured him, Katniss started to think of him in a different light.

Instead of answering her, Haymitch pushed a bunch of papers into Katniss's chest, making sure she grabbed onto the material before he let go. On the cover was Katniss, glare present on her face, with Finnick by her side, grinning about something. It was from the night that he took her to the restaurant.

"What's this!? There wasn't a person in sight when we entered!" Katniss raged, her grip on the magazine tightening.

"Do you honestly think that, with all of this technology, the Capitol wouldn't capture a photo of the two of you?" Haymitch gestures around the room from the image of the woods that were plastered on the walls to the dresser where the mirror was automatically maneuvering itself to face her new position, allowing Katniss to fix up her appearance at anytime without having to wander over to the dresser.

Katniss had to agree with him there. The Capitol's technology never ceased to amaze her, especially since District Twelve was so poor. The Capitol's mandatory projection devices that displayed the Games every year were basically the only modern day technology the whole district had, asides from the small TV in the mayor's office that Katniss saw once when she was selling him strawberries.

"Do you even know how badly this is going to reflect on you?" Haymitch sneered at her. "Everyone's going to think you slept with him!"

Katniss glowered at him, offended at him for even thinking that. Did he actually think that she would sleep with someone as superficial as Finnick Odair?

"I would never," she scoffed, the idea completely outlandish to her.

"It doesn't matter what you think, Sweetheart. The world is going to see you going out on a date with the infamous Capitol playboy and they are going to assume things," Haymitch barked.

"Whatever," Katniss snapped back, irritated at him, although she knew that he was right. "Let's just go!" Katniss stalked out of the room, not bothering to grab anything.

The ride to the ceremony center was spent in sulking silence on her part. Crossing her legs and slouching back into her seat with a permanent scowl on her face, Katniss listened in on Peeta and Haymitch's conversation.

"What are you going to go with, Katniss?" Peeta asked kindly from across her. The vehicle they were riding in was so roomy, the seats were set up to make a circle and there was a small coffee table in the middle. It was different from the car that Finnick took her out to dinner with, that car was small and only had three seats that were side-by-side.

"Don't know," Katniss grumbled under her breath. Finnick's voice echoed through her mind: _Just think that you're speaking with your sister. _What did that make her, then? Not charming, not sweet, and _definitely _not sexy.

"We could be practicing acting for months and she still wouldn't be able to wow the crowd," Haymitch slurred before chugging from his bottle. "She's hopeless."

"At least I'm not the town drunk that everyone hates!" Katniss scoffed at him and the vehicle stopped. Katniss hurled the door open, uncaring when it made an worrying cracking sound, and all but ran to Cinna, who was standing near the dressing room door with her prep team. Each district was given their own dressing room, which was then divided in half, one half for the male tribute and one half for the female tribute.

"Having problems with your partner, Girl on Fire? You ran out of that limo pretty fast," Katniss heard a smooth voice purr from behind her. Katniss's face fell from the relieved look she got when she caught sight of Cinna.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your tributes, Finnick?" Katniss sighed, not at all surprised at seeing him.

"They're already with their prep team," Finnick shrugged.

"That doesn't mean that you can't stand besides them when they're getting their makeup put on and help them," Katniss counteracted.

"And if I just wanted to see a certain District Twelve tribute?" Finnick hummed, sliding closer to her. Unfazed by his advances by now, Katniss merely pushed against his chest until he backed up.

"Then you can see her on stage," Katniss was quick to respond.

"Finnick Odair," Cinna's voice interrupted before they could continue their conversation. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Cinna. Nice to meet you." Sticking out his hand for hand for the District Four Victor to shake, Cinna looked at Finnick strangely, suspicious of him. Finnick responded with a smirk and grabbed at

Cinna's hand firmly.

"Pleasures all mine," Finnick said charmingly.

"As much as I wish we could talk more, I must get Katniss inside to get ready. I'm sure you understand," Cinna gave Finnick an apologetic look before he ushered the tribute through the door. Katniss's prep team, Flavius, Octavia, and Venia, followed them inside, still drooling over Capitol's sex God.

"Did you see that? He looked at me!" Flavius squealed, regardless of the fact that he was a man, asides from that, he was a very straight man. The three of them sighed dreamily, stealing glances at the man behind them.

"Thank God for you Cinna," Katniss breathed in relief as the doors closed behind them.

"Odair," a rugged voice calls from behind him just as Finnick is about to return to his tributes.

"Haymitch!" Finnick gasps, as if pleasantly surprised to see the older man. Peeta is besides the mentor, having just followed him out of the limo. "It's been too long,"

"Peeta, go get ready with your prep team," Haymitch orders the younger boy. Peeta looks about ready to argue, but decides not to and turns away after giving Finnick a wary glare. Watching the male tribute walk through the doors, Haymitch looks back over to his fellow victor.

"Look Odair, I know about your business thing and whatever with the President and I can honestly say that I could care less about it," Haymitch grumbles. "But what's your deal with my female tribute?"

Finnick fakes a look of hurt. He gasps, "Why, Haymitch! I would never think to harm, Katniss! If that's what you're implying…"

"Cut the crap, Finnick! Tell me what's going on," Haymitch demands.

"Is Haymitch Abernathy actually starting to take mentoring seriously?" Finnick asks incredulously. "If it were any other District Twelve tribute, you wouldn't even bat an eye. Does this have to do with her eleven?"

"_This _tribute actually has a chance of winning! And if you continue with your advances, then it's gonna cost her sponsors, and maybe even her life," Haymitch informs him ferociously.

Finnick takes a moment to reply, looking thoughtful about it. He remembers about what Johanna told him earlier about the Gamemakers sabotaging the Games and how he called her out on that. He knew that the Gamemakers couldn't directly kill Katniss, but he didn't think about what her potential sponsors would think.

"Wouldn't our 'relationship' bring in more sponsors, though," Finnick murmurs before he can stop himself. Looking at Haymitch's furious look, Finnick rushes to explain himself. "Think about it! If the people thought that we were a couple, wouldn't they want her to come out alive? For my sake? For her sake? It would be a classical love story!"

Haymitch's look of rage disappears and instead he starts to look thoughtful. He nods after so long, "It could work." Then a look of disgust crosses his features, "If you weren't known as a playboy. But since you are…"

"That would make it even better!" Finnick cries out. "All girls want to break the bad boy out of his bad habits. Everyone would be swooning over the girl that managed to get the infamous Finnick Odair out of his womanizing ways!"

"That's also true. But, she would never agree to it anyways. Katniss is pretty stubborn," Haymitch sniggers, remembering how disgusted she sounded when he originally confronted her about Finnick.

"She doesn't need to," Finnick grins, looking satisfied about something. "Just let me handle it."

* * *

And that is the end of that! Chapter Seven is finished, but I'm waiting until I write Chapter Eight. I'm tired, it's 1:30AM here and I am exhausted from work, so be very grateful! And my reviews went down :( And I really liked that last chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Seven

"I told her I would try to win," Katniss says, her voice wavering and tears starting to flood her eyes. "I told her I would try to win for her."

Katniss's eyes scan the crowd, easily passing over the colorful Capitol citizens before she spots Cinna, standing out from the crowd because of his plain, ordinary looks. They lock eyes momentarily and Cinna nods at her, looking serious but understanding at the same time.

Swallowing nervously, she nods back before turning to Caesar Flickerman again. Finishing up on his commentary to the audience, he looks back to her once more.

Clearing his throat, his expression changes from sympathetic to curious in a second. "Now one last thing, Katniss. Tell me, what's your relationship with the District Four Victor, Finnick Odair."

"Relationship?" Katniss asks incredulously, standing up straighter in her chair. "Wait! What?"

"Aww, come on, Katniss. Don't keep out on us!" A picture of Katniss and Finnick stepping into the restaurant appears on the screen suddenly. The crowd goes wild, but instead of looking jealous, they look_ wanting_. They actually look as if they're hoping that Finnick and Katniss have a secret relationship going on. "This picture was taken on the day of the tribute's personal training sessions outside of the restaurant, _Amorella._"

"That? That was just a meeting! Finnick and I don't have a relationship!" Katniss tries to defend herself; she's starting to get uncomfortable from the suggestive look that Caesar is throwing at her.

The crowd seems disappointed at the answer and they quiet down almost immediately. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to say that… The crowd doesn't seem as crazy about her as they were a moment ago.

"Well, actually…" Katniss starts without even thinking. Now, what? What can she say now that will satisfy the crowd? "Finnick and I… Well, he's been really supportive of me these past few days and I'm really grateful for him."

The audience all seems to lean forward at the same time, the motion reminding Katniss of a small wave flowing towards the shore.

"Even this morning, we had a really nice talk. I think that I'm starting to understand him. At first, I really hated him and his cocky attitude but now, I think that maybe… Maybe, we could become close."

Lovesick sighs could be heard from the onlookers and Katniss is satisfied with her answer. She managed to wow the audience without making it seem like she was completely in love with Finnick Odair. However, the words that she said weren't lies, which Katniss found strange. Her eyes wander back to the crowd and Katniss tries to look for Cinna again. However, much to her surprise instead of spotting Cinna, she sees Finnick. He winks at her from his seat and Katniss stares at him disbelievingly. The cameras seem to catch the exchange and start to replay the exchange on the screen behind her. Screams erupt from the audience again and Caesar Flickerman laughs with them, enjoying himself.

"It seems to us that Finnick is quite fond of you," Caesar jokes, then he glances at his watch and his expression changes to something akin to disappointment. "Okay, Katniss, we've already gone over our time limit!" Then Caesar stands up with Katniss, raising her hand above their heads, he crows, "Ladies and gentlemen! Give it up for the Girl on Fire!"

The crowd roars with excitement and glee and Katniss smiles at them once more before turning back around and exiting through the back door. She stumbles in her heels almost immediately after she's off stage and Katniss leans over, hands on her knees and starts taking large breaths. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"What could have possibly happened between you and Finnick Odair in the span of a couple of hours, Sweetheart?" Haymitch's obnoxious voice interrupts her small panic attack and Katniss rolls her eyes at him. "I thought that you didn't like Finnick."

"It was for the people. I was losing sponsors," Katniss hisses back at him. "I didn't lie to you this morning."

"So, you don't really like me?"

Katniss shoots back up so fast she has to reel back from the headache that accompanies the sudden movement.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Katniss asks. She's embarrassed by her "confession" on stage and how she so obviously used him to gain sponsors. "You were in the audience a second ago!"

"I left," Finnick shrugs. Hands stuffed in his pockets and leaning on his left foot, it looks like he's posing for a picture. "What's with the interview, Fire Girl?"

"They, they had the picture from the restaurant. I didn't know what to say. I told them that we weren't going out but they looked so disappointed. I was trying to make them happy," Katniss sputters over her words, her whole explanation seems rushed and sloppy. Then she exhales once and her gaze lands on the ground in front of Finnick, too guilty to look at him directly. "I'm sorry. I used you."

Haymitch guffaws at her apology and he looks about ready to say something witty and not at all appreciated when Katniss glares at him. What is he still doing here?

"Alright, alright. I get it! I'm leaving," Haymitch chuckles, hands up in front of him in the classic defense posture. He turns away from them to watch Peeta's interview, which is featured live from the TV not far away from them.

Katniss shifts her weight nervously; maybe she shouldn't have sent Haymitch away with her look. Now that it was just the two of them, Katniss felt weak and stripped of the confidence she displayed on stage.

"I'm not mad at you, Katniss," Finnick explains, shrugging his shoulders as if it's no big deal. "You did what you had to do." Without even knowing, Katniss relaxes her stance from its previous frozen position. She's grateful that he actually seems genuine for once and not cocky and obnoxious.

"Thank you", Katniss grumbles. She could count the number of times she's said those words on her fingers. "For the roof this morning, too. It really helped me in the interview."

Finnick smiles at her, but he doesn't focus on the subject because he's just as uncomfortable as she is when admitting weakness. "Good job on the confession thing too. It's better to keep them in the dark a little rather than just outright say things. It leaves them thinking, makes an impression."

"When I said that, I wasn't lying," Katniss murmurs, and her heart starts pounding and her face flushes when she realizes that what she said made it sound like she was actually confessing. "Not that I like you. Well, not like that. The Capitol citizens could interpret it however they like, but I actually think that I could be a close _friend_ with you Finnick. This morning on the roof, I saw you. I, actually, saw _you_ and not that image that you make whenever you're out in public."

Finnick seems struck by her words, looking speechless for a moment. He composes himself shortly after and he opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by Caesar's voice, which seems louder than it usually is. They must have turned the microphone volume up a little.

"Once you win the Hunger Games and go back home, she will have to fall in love you," Caesar comforts him.

"No, I don't think that it's going to work like that, Caesar," Peeta replies, he looks sad and sort of depressed.

"Why not?"

"Because she came here with me," Peeta answers strongly, his eyes on Caesar Flickerman. "But, now I have to compete with Finnick Odair." He sighs, looking hopeless. "I don't think I can do that."

The crowd goes wild, once more. Some look furious at his confession, however many of them look sympathetic for him too, seeming to root for him.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Haymitch seethes over the TV, his grip on the bottle in his hand visibly tightening. "We did not agree to this! We didn't go over this!"

"Did he? Did he just?" Katniss chokes on her words, shocked at the confession. The interview continues but Katniss is still in a daze. Vaguely she could see Finnick and Haymitch talking furiously about something or another, but she pays them no mind.

Finnick looks frustrated; his hand goes through his hair, ruining all the hard work that his prep team put into it. Haymitch looks just as mad as Finnick and he argues back in between large gulps of the liquor in his hand.

"This is going to ruin everything," Finnick seethes, the muscles in his arms tighten as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

"We could fix this," Haymitch mutters. "We need to."

"How, Haymitch?" Finnick questions, however to Katniss it seems like he's demanding an answer.

"We'll figure it out," Haymitch replies, but he's starting to look doubtful.

"Wait! What is this going to ruin?" Katniss interrupts, just now tuning in. "What are you two talking about? Fix what?"

"Nothing, Katniss," Finnick soothes, but he looks irritated as he's saying it.

"You're hiding something from me!" Katniss accuses the both of them. And to think that she was actually starting to like Finnick! She should never have trusted him to begin with. Dumb move there, Katniss. Only idiots trust Careers, and Finnick was a Career tribute in his Games.

"Sweetheart, now is not the time!" Haymitch yells at her and Katniss realizes that they're making a scene. A few of the remaining tributes that stayed to watch the rest of the interview are blatantly staring at them, including Finnick's tributes.

"Fine," Katniss growls out, giving in. "But you will tell me." Haymitch starts to say something witty in response but Katniss isn't listening because right now, Peeta is just starting to walk through the exit and towards them.

* * *

My reviews are taking a blow :( I got 10 this time, which is one more than the last chapter, but it's not as much as my average 13. My views also seem to go down. I think it may have to do with me not updating Broken, so I posted a chapter for that story too. Finished Chapter Seven like half an hour ago. Next chapter is in first person.


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Eight

I'm quick to react. Stomping over to where Peeta is, making sure my steps are as loud as possible to show him how mad I am, I grip him by the arm and slam him up against the wall with as much force as I can muster in my body. He's stronger than me, of course he is, he's been well-fed and healthy his whole life and he carries more than fifty pounds on me, so it must be the surprise that allows me to push him around. A thump accompanies the movement and he falls into place with his back to the sparkly blue wall and his front to me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" I rage, I don't even know if I want to know his answer. Peeta's mouth opens and closes, his face mirroring how shocked he is. He is trying to force out an answer, but I'm not listening to his unintelligible mumbling. My grip on his arms tighten and I pull him forward and slam him back into the wall. "What were you thinking!?"

I'm pulled off of him before I can do any more damage and I surge forward with all of my weight, which isn't much. I want to hurt him; I want to cause him as much damage as he just caused me. The arms around my midsection tighten and I can vaguely make out Finnick's smooth voice trying to calm me down. Of course he's composed, when is he ever not? Well, asides from that one moment of weakness on top of the roof earlier this morning.

"Let me go!" I demand from him, fighting against his hold on me. But he's even stronger than Peeta and he doesn't even flinch when my arm rears back and my elbow slams into his stomach in a well-placed blow. He's saying something again; did he ever stop taking in the first place? I really don't know, I haven't been paying him much attention. The position is uncomfortable and embarrassing, although not nearly as humiliating as the position he had me in the training station. At least we aren't chest to chest this time.

"Sweetheart, this may actually be good for you!" Haymitch grumbles. He's standing not far from us, but it's obvious that he doesn't want to put much effort into stopping me from attacking Peeta again.

"He's making me look like a damsel in distress!" I cry out, my arm flies out to point accusingly at him.

"You basically told all of Panem that you liked Finnick Odair when you were on stage!" Peeta accused me; it looks like he's finally snapped out of his shock.

"I never said I liked him!" I argue back, although I already know that the Capitol citizen's would probably interpret it that way. The Capitol only sees what it wants to see.

"You might as well have." This time Peeta's answer is quiet and I have to strain to hear it.

"Why does it matter to you who I like anyways?" I hiss, by now I've given up trying to get out of Finnick's hold, it's useless anyways and I probably look like an idiot struggling in his hold.

Peeta looks hurt but Haymitch interrupts him before he can say anything. "What's done is done. All we can do is try to work with it." Finnick finally let's go of me, figuring that I wouldn't go after Peeta again.

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" I ask, crossing my arms and biting down on the inside of my cheek.

"Just let me think for one second okay, Sweetheart?" Haymitch growls at me and I glare back at him.

"We could use Peeta to lead the Careers away from you," Finnick suggests. "Because Katniss got the eleven, it's safe to assume that they'll be keeping an eye out for you in the arena. They'll probably think that you and Peeta have a plan and we can use Peeta to keep them distracted."

"That's a dumb idea," I scoff. "I can't run forever. It may work for a few days or maybe a week or so, but there will be a confrontation."

"Timing is everything, Katniss." Finnick looks at me seriously and I'm suddenly really self-conscious. He has more experience than me and I feel stupid at arguing against him.

"He's right," Haymitch grumbles, he does not look like he likes agreeing with Finnick. "The Careers are going to start turning on each other once the numbers go down. If we can keep you out of their path long enough then instead of having to go up against all of them, you may only have to deal with two or three of them, if you're lucky there might even be only one left."

I am silent, letting the information sink in. It's a reasonable idea and it makes sense. "Do you even want to help me?" I ask Peeta. It wouldn't surprise me if this is all just a plan to get sponsors for himself.

"Yes." It's all he says and he looks genuine.

"Why?" It doesn't make sense to me. The Games are serious; if I lived then it would mean the Peeta has to die. Why couldn't he just be selfish? Why does he have to be so selfless and nice? It irritates me. I already need to pay my debt to him for throwing me bread. But, I want to go home too.

"Prim came to visit me after we got reaped," Peeta starts off with. My eyes narrow at hearing Prim's name. "She wanted me to protect. I said that I would help you as much as I could. I promised her." It sounds just like that conversation that I had with the Baker when he visited me.

"What's in it for you?" I'm mad at Prim for guilt tripping him into helping me, but I can't blame her either. I'm actually not surprised that she would do this, knowing her she would beg on her hands and knees if she needed to.

"I don't have a chance," Peeta explains, his eyes looking down at his feet. "I don't know how to use a weapon and I'm not nearly as strong as Cato."

"Then how did you get that eight as your training score?" Finnick asks him, looking curious. He's so nosy, he reminds me of one of the merchant girls at school that gossiped about boys, the teachers, and other students, basically anything that was seen as interesting. The girls in the Seam were always too busy trying to find food than worrying about such things.

"I threw heavy things," Peeta tells him, shrugging his shoulders. "Not exactly deadly."

Finnick actually snorts and he brings his arm up to try to hide his amused expression. It must sound like a pathetic skill to a Career. Peeta blushes, looking embarrassed at his lack of skill. Finnick is known all over Panem for his ability to wield a trident like a warrior.

"Shut up, Finnick. It's not like all of us are trained to kill kids," I hiss at him, offended for Peeta. I'm still mad at Peeta, but Finnick is attacking my whole district by laughing. "We have more important things to worry, like finding food to eat." That wipes the expression off of Finnick's face and he looks offended at what I just said.

"I didn't train to become a Career," Finnick shoots back. "I was just unlucky enough to be picked on the one year that no body wants to volunteer."

"Yeah," I laugh. That's ridiculous, Finnick was way too confident and capable in the arena to not be trained for that Games. I can't remember watching the reaping from Finnick's year, I was too young and it wasn't memorable enough. "Sure." Finnick glowers at me but doesn't continue.

"If you two are done?" Haymitch sneers. My lips twitch and I want to respond that he didn't need to wait for us to finish talking, but I don't. "Great." Then he turns to Peeta, "You need to convince the Careers to let you in."

Peeta nods but he looks scared. I don't blame him; I wouldn't want to sleep next to Cato or Clove, either. "How?"

"It shouldn't be too hard. Tell them that you can help them find Katniss, tell them that you know how she got that eleven," Haymitch grumbles.

"Okay," Peeta agrees, but his voice trails off as if he isn't all that sure about it.

"What about when they find out that he's lying about knowing where I am?" I ask. They'll figure it out eventually. It shouldn't take more than a day for them to realize that Peeta has no idea what he's doing.

"Then he runs," Haymitch explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He looks over at Peeta again. "Don't wait more than two days. On the night of the second day, you wait until everyone's asleep and you get the hell out of there. As far as you can get before they wake up. They're going to be pissed when they wake up." Peeta nods and Haymitch brings the bottle of liquor to his lips and takes a swig, the alcohol flowing down his throat like water.

"Ugh," he groans before he starts to drag himself to the exit where the cars are waiting. "This year is stressing me too much." I watch him shut the door behind him before I turn back to Peeta. Why is he still here anyways?

"I didn't mean to embarrass you when I told Caesar that I liked you," Peeta admits, he looks guiltily at me.

"How are you going to confess something like that to all of Panem and not expect me to freak out?" I ask him. "You didn't even warn me or anything. Haymitch didn't even know!"

"It was sort of a last seconds thing. Caesar asked me if I liked someone and it just popped up into my mind," Peeta explains. I want to ask him why he thought to include me, but I decide not to. I may not like the answer. He gives me one last look that suggests that he's finished and turns and walks away.

"Well that was weird," Finnick says besides me. I look at him strangely, I've almost forgotten about him. I have way too much on my plate.

I huff once and follow Peeta out the door, I have nothing more to say to Finnick right now and since the ceremony was officially finished there is nothing left for me to do.

"No goodbye?" Finnick shouts from behind me and I could hear him chuckle. How did he even get involved in all of this in the first place?

* * *

And that, my lovelies, is Chapter Eight. Finished at approximately 12:31 AM on Friday morning. I was debating on whether to write another chapter or to continue on with my original story but I decided to give you guys mercy. This is my first Chapter in first person from Katniss's Point of View. Like it? Don't? Should I write more like it? I usually don't like writing fanfiction in first person because I feel like I'm not going to live up to the way Suzanne Collins portraits her. But, since I started writing my original story, which is in first person, I decided to give it a go.

I'd also like to apologize :( I've realized that I've been coming off as a greedy review whore. I may be selfish, but I'm not too prideful to admit it :/ I've sorta been feeding off of it for a long while, now .-. I'm an aspiring author, as most people that post stories on here are, and I kinda use your reviews to fuel my own fire. Fanfiction is my training ground and I realize that I'm a sucky author, not playing the "poor me" façade either, but I think I have potential as an author and I'm practicing using fanfiction. I've been on fanfiction since 2007 and I've watched amateurs turn into great writers through practice. I've just started writing my own stories and I'm hoping that the same thing will happen to me. The reviews that I've been getting on here are being used to sorta help me write my own story. I am writing my original story, by the way, and I don't know how to explain this but it's like when you get reviews you're like, people like my writing, they're reading it, so I'm sure they'll like my original story, which inspires me to keep writing. It's actually my original story that inspired me to change from third person to first person. My original story is in first person and it's been going ok, so i figured, why not try? Again, another apology :/ This is a really long authors note thingy. I wasn't planning on posting today, but I saw the review addressing this problem and I felt like it needed to be addressed immediately rather than hiding from it. So, I wrote my Ninth chapter upon coming home and prepared this one to be posted just so I could say this.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Nine

We're on the roof together, Peeta and I. When the elevator doors opened and I saw the back of a man, I halfway expected it to be Finnick. But the person's hair was way too light to be Finnick's, and when he turned around their eyes were too blue. Not anything like Finnick's incredible green eyes. No, this wasn't Finnick that I was facing; it was Peeta. For a second I was disappointed, I have been wanting to see more of the side of him I saw of him the last time we were on the roof together. I wanted more time to talk to him, genuinely. I wanted more time to question him. Why does he live the life of a playboy when he looked so lonely that one time? To me, it seemed like he desperately needed a shoulder to lean on. He could have any girl he wants, they would probably worship the ground he walks on.

I walk over to Peeta, sitting down besides him on the ledge. Our legs dangle over the edge but we're not scared. There is a force field to catch us if we were to fall. We stay silent at first, reveling in the peace that we both need.

"The Games are tomorrow," Peeta says out of the blue_. Do you think I don't realize that, Peeta?_ I'm dying to say, but I hold it back. He's just as nervous as me. Hell, he's probably worrying more than me. At least I stand a chance with a bow in my hands. Peeta may be able to convince the Careers to let him join, but what happens to him when he overstays his welcome? He can probably stab one of the weaker tributes if he has a knife handy. Glimmer might be able to hold her own in the beginning of the Games, but she's definitely no winner. I saw her try to shoot an arrow in the training center and while her stance was better than most beginners, her arrow flew off way to the side of the target. Peeta could probably take down someone like Glimmer.

"I know," I reply with. I've been dreading this moment from the second I volunteered in place of Prim. I don't regret volunteering for Prim, though. I love her more than anyone else in the world and I would happily give up my life if it meant that she would live. "I'm really sorry about pushing you into that wall earlier."

"It's alright. I understand, you were embarrassed," Peeta shrugs. "Sorry to just lay that on you."

I'm still mad at him for the interview but I won't hold it against him. We all make mistakes and I would rather spend my last few moments with Peeta civil and nice, rather than spiteful. This is the Peeta I want to remember.

"You ready for tomorrow?" I ask him. I know he's not. Asides from the Career tributes, none of us are prepared for what's to come tomorrow when we enter the arena.

"No," Peeta admits. I'm surprised that he didn't just say 'yes' to appease me, but I guess that we are in the same boat. There is no point in lying. "I know I'm not going to survive. My best hope is to get a fast death and to, well…" He trails off and I lean in closer to him, eager to know what he has to say.

"What?" I question. I ignore the part where he said he was going to die.

"When I go, I just want to be myself. I don't want to die being some monster that my family will be ashamed off. I just wish that I could show everyone that they don't own me. They can't control me; they're not going to be forcing me to do anything in the arena. Everything that I do will happen because I chose to do it," Peeta explains to me and I nod at him. I don't know what will happen to me if I ever do come out of the arena alive. The Games change everything and everyone.

"I don't want to kill anyone," I tell Peeta. I don't want to have to kill him or little Rue from District Eleven, or even brutal Cato.

"Will you?" he asks.

I look down, away from him. "Probably," I admit. I don't want to kill anyone, but I will if I have to. I will kill if they're trying to kill me, I will kill if it means that I can go home to Prim.

"I will, too. I won't like it, but if it means that I get to live another day, another hour even, I will," Peeta lets me know. For a second I find it ironic, only moments ago Peeta was telling me that he won't be playing by the Capitol's rules, but by killing other tributes we are both falling right into their trap. He looks guilty after he confesses this and he gets up almost immediately after he says it. "I think I'm going to try to sleep, then."

"Big, big day tomorrow!" I try to mimic Effie's accent, but I fail miserably. We both laugh at my attempt though and it feels good to laugh for once. It's been forever since I've felt to carefree.

"Goodnight, Katniss," Peeta tells me as he steps into the elevator.

"Night," I wave goodbye. I don't want to leave right now. I won't be able to sleep anyways.

I face the big city and squint a little at the tiny people loitering on the streets. There are more people out at night than I saw this morning. I find it strange, in District Twelve everyone is up at the crack of dawn to scavenge for food and asleep once it gets dark. It's a privilege to sleep; it's an escape from the hunger pangs that we feel every second of the day.

There is one man that stands out from the rest of them, which is an incredible achievement considering how outrageous they all dress. Well, to be honest I'm not sure if it's a man or woman. He has a hat on that extends out more than a yard up from his head and skintight green pants that shimmer in the light. I laugh at his appearance, he looks absolutely ridiculous and I haven't even seen his face.

"Katniss Everdeen laughing? What is this world coming to?" I hear a smooth voice behind me. I turn around quickly; I didn't even hear the elevator doors open.

"Oh God, no! It must be the apocalypse!" I gasp, playing along with him. His eyebrows furrow for a second before he smirks.

"And a joke to go with it, too! Quick! Pinch me! I must be dreaming!" Finnick extends his arm towards me and I knock it asides roughly.

"I'm honored that you dream of me and all but it's kinda creepy, too," I tell him, my face looking serious again. I bring my hand up and pinch two fingers together, tilting my head to the side a bit. "Just a little."

"Sorry, can't exactly control my dreams. You're just so captivating," Finnick eyes me, making sure that it's obvious to me, but I'm not uncomfortable.

"Well I can't blame you or anything," I trail off. "I am the Girl on Fire."

"True, true," he hums. "So what's with the carefree attitude, Fire Girl? It must be a cold day in Hell, today."

"Well, I might just die tomorrow. Why not live what could possibly be my last night being happy?" I ask him. There is a high probability that I can be killed in the bloodbath.

"Don't talk like that, Katniss. Everyone is rooting for you!" Finnick tries to encourage me, but I just laugh it off.

"That's not stopping them from taking me out of the Games. The Capitol may love me now, but they'll be just as entertained by my death as they were at my Opening Ceremony," I say spitefully. The Capitol citizen's are such fakes, cooing over Rue in her interview and cheering for Cato when he demonstrating his strength by flexing his muscles. Typical men, I had outright laughed when I saw him do it, trust a boy to show off his muscles. But in the end, we are all just characters in their own sick, twisted television show. Another drama to be aired.

"Did you actually think they would," Finnick chuckles. "They wouldn't take a tribute out of the Games if they were nine months pregnant."

I'm embarrassed to admit that I was actually hoping that they would like me enough to release me. I've fantasized about it more than once.

"Yeah, I'd have to be pretty dumb to think that, wouldn't I?" I murmur, looking out into the distance. "Look at that girl!" I point at a random citizen. "What is she doing!?"

Finnick peers over the edge and to where I'm pointing. Then he chuckles, amused. "I think that she's trying to flirt."

"And she's failing!" I gape, leaning closer. I can see her trip over her heels, purposely flailing around as she falls to the ground in an ungraceful heap of pink and green. There is a man not far from her, who's watching her in disbelief. The woman continues to rise to her feet, and then falls again, crawling on the floor pathetically.

"Well she is catching his attention," Finnick defends her, although it's obvious that he's joking.

"I don't exactly think that it's the good kind of attention," I giggle. This has got to be the tenth time she's fallen over and now she's rolling on the floor. It reminds me of a turtle I saw once at the lake in the woods. My dad took me to the lake and taught me how to catch fish and swim. I saw the creature hiding in the rocks and grabbed it. I showed it to my dad who explained to me that it was another sea creature that hid in its shell when it saw a predator and ate plants and insects. I took the poor thing and laid it on its back, giggling when it struggled to roll over. Eventually my dad scolded me and made me put the turtle back. _It's too hard to prepare_, he said. _It's too small anyways and we have lots of fish._

"It must be some kind of new Capitol mating tactic," Finnick observes next to me, putting his hand under his hand under his chin and nodding, looking like he's contemplating the thought.

"You would know!" I say. "Isn't that just the most attractive thing you've ever seen before!?"

"Now that you say it, I've never seen anything more graceful," Finnick gasps. "Look at that form, it's gorgeous!"

"Quit it, Odair! I'm getting jealous," I joke.

"Not to worry, Katniss. If you were to do that, it would be ten times sexier!"

"I know," I huff, holding me head high and flipping my braid over my shoulder.

"Someone's arrogant," Finnick mutters next to me.

"Confidence is key," I tell him, haughtily in a Capitol accent. It's something that I've heard from one of the Capitol dramas. "And you're one to talk about being arrogant! Don't even go there!"

Finnick holds his hands up in a defensive posture, reeling away from me. "Whatever you say, Girl on Fire. Just spare me from your terrifying glare!"

I sputter out words to say, but I don't know how to reply. We look at each other and laugh together, our whole conversation has been one big, ridiculous mess but it's been one of the most amusing talks I've ever had.

"Watch out, Cato! I don't even need a bow to kill you! I'll just send you to your death with my glare alone!" I giggle. The thought of Cato being scared of a ninety-pound girl's expression is absurd.

"A bow?" Finnick asks, his tone heavier than earlier. "Is that how you got that eleven?" The question causes me to go silent immediately. It was pretty stupid of me to let that slip.

"Why? Gonna tell your tributes?" I question, making sure my voice is as cold as ice.

"I thought that we already established that my tributes aren't worth the effort to keep alive," Finnick tells me. "My boy has no skills whatsoever and my girls as cocky as Cato, without the strength to back her up."

"Why are you helping me, Finnick?" There is no reason for him to get involved in my interview, sending me a wink and knowing that the Capitol would capture it on camera and eat it up.

Finnick is silent, for once. It's the quietest it's been sense he made his appearance known. "I don't really know, myself."

"That's a dumb answer," I tell him bluntly. "What's in it for you?"

"I guess that if there was a victor, I would rather have you over anyone else. Jesus, can you even think about how Cato would act after the Games? He would be so arrogant; he would probably never shut up. The first thing he would do once he meets the rest of the Victors is try to establish his dominance over us. It would be like having to live with two Brutus's."

I don't ask who Brutus is, but I assume that he's another Victor that acts like the world revolves around him.

"And think about that District One kid! His jokes are terrible but he still thinks he's the funniest guy on planet Earth! And I'm personally terrified with that little girl from Two, there's something wrong with her in the head," Finnick exaggerates, making it sounds like he'll be miserable having to deal with the Careers as Victors. "At least I like you. You're not cocky or bloodthirsty or insane or anything. You're just trying to survive."

"Everyone is just trying to survive," I murmur. I think about the boy from District Ten with the limp and Rue, with her frail and tiny body.

"But you're strong. Physically and mentally," Finnick argues with me. "When you asked me if it was worth it to win last time, I didn't answer. You didn't want me to. I didn't want to. But the answer is no. But, it doesn't matter anyways because we're not living for ourselves. We're living for our loved ones, for our friends and family back home. It doesn't matter what we think or feel, we need to survive for them. So when you're in the arena, don't be selfish. Don't think about yourself; think about your little sister, she needs you. When you kill your first tribute, think about her. You're doing it for her."

I'm speechless. It's the deepest thing I've ever heard from him. Hell, it's the deepest thing I've ever heard from anyone, ever. I stare at him, disbelievingly. I didn't even think that Finnick was capable of being deep. I always thought that he had no problem coping after his Games. In his Victor's ceremony, Finnick didn't look like a changed man. He still smiled for the cameras and audience. But his words suggest that he's suffering too. Just what are you hiding, Finnick?

"I will," I tell him. "I will think of her." Who are you thinking of, Finnick? Who are you living for?

"Don't mistake me for a wise man now, Katniss!" Finnick smiles. The serious talk is over, he doesn't want to continue with it, I realize.

"Finnick Odair? Wise?" I scoff, but it's weak. He's proved himself to me in that moment and it's uncomfortable and strange and not something that happens often.

"I know, right? Those words just don't go together!" Finnick hums. "I incorporate the word with old men with long white beards."

"What?" I choke, because the image is so unusual, but easy to imagine.

"With a walking sticks," he adds. "They need to have walking sticks and their backs bend over when they walk."

"You are one strange man, Finnick Odair."

* * *

The end of Chapter Nine! I think this chapter is really cute. Katniss is releasing stress and laughing with Finnick. They're slowly, but surely bonding. I'm trying to drag it out now, since they're obviously not going to have any together time once she's in the arena. And no, I'm not upset by your comment, DragonStories. Very embarrassed, yes, haha but it's an eye-opener. At least you weren't rude about it. Jreads12, does that conversation count? Hope it does. There is always one chapter prewritten by the time I post another one, so it's hard to incorporate things, but I try. LOL to strange Capitol ladies rolling on the floor to gain attention. Sorry about the longer chapter requests, because I work I have a really hard time finding time to write. So, I tend to squish in an hour or two a day to write. But, I like to do small chapter and have more of them, because I can't trust myself to post more chapters after so long. Give me two weeks of not posting and I'll get bored and move on without a second glance, I have terrible commitment issues. So, I'm surprised I've made it so far with this story.


	10. Chapter 10

I don't own The Hunger Games. It belongs to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Ten

I wake up before it's light out. I don't even know if it counts as sleeping, I was just drifting in and out of consciousness. I try to remember if I dreamt last night, that would remind me that I slept, but I come up blank. If I did sleep, it was only for an hour, two hours at most. I spent until two in the morning with Finnick on the roof, then I spent another hour lying in bed and replaying our conversation.

"_Is there any good that comes out of winning?" I asked him._

"_To us? No. They give food to our districts though, so I guess that's good. My district doesn't really need a huge feast or anything, but everyone still enjoys it," Finnick explained to me. _

"_What's your district like?" I questioned him. I had never been outside of my district, besides when I was in the woods and that doesn't count. I always wondered what the other Districts were like. I knew District Four is the fishing district, so there must be a sea, or in the least a giant lake. _

_ "It's beautiful," he sighed, looking reminiscent. "Before the Hunger Games, I used to live ten minutes from the beach. I would walk there, barefoot of course, shoes would only hold me back, and swim for hours. Once you reach the sand, depending on which beach you're at or how hot it is, you would run to the water as fast as you could. It actually burns your feet pretty bad sometimes, but the ocean would instantly cool it down. Sometimes I would fish or throw net at the rocks, but mostly I would just swim." _

_ "When you said you didn't volunteer… Were you telling the truth?"_

_ Finnick looks thoughtful for a while. "Yeah," he murmurs. "There were times that I thought about it, but I was still too young anyways. My parents couldn't afford to send me to the Academy, so I kinda brushed it off and decided not to go through with it." _

_ I hesitate before I ask him his next question. "Then how did you know how to use that trident so well?" _

_ He doesn't look offended like I thought he would. Instead he laughs, "Oh that? My dad's a fisherman; most of our parents are in District Four. The pays pretty good for long liners, depending on how much they catch, but they spend three weeks at a time out at sea before they come back home. _

"_When I was ten, my dad took me to the beach and we walked into the clearest and shallowest part of the water. Then, we waited until the fish just came right up to you. And when they were within distance, you would spear them. We used a wooden spear though; I've never even touched a trident before I was reaped. But in actuality, it was a hell of a lot easier to use a trident than a spear. Once, you get used to the weight difference," he trailed off and looked to be deep in thought. _

_I could imagine him now. A young boy and his father, knee high in water and frozen like statues until a fish came up. _

"_My dad taught me how to use a bow, too," I murmur before I could even stop myself. "Just the basics, like how to stand and how to hold the bow. I had to learn by myself after that." _

"_Is your dad a hunter?" Finnick inquired, leaning in closer to me._

"_As a side thing, everyone in the District knew he was, but it's illegal so everyone just overlooked it and played dumb. He was a coal miner when he wasn't hunting," I explained to him. "He was a great man and a great father."_

"_He died?"_

"_In an explosion," I said with finality. I didn't need or want his pity. _

"_My dad did, too. His ship went down when he was out at sea," Finnick sympathized with me. _

I didn't know that he lost a parent, too. Usually, the Victor's lives were broadcasted 24/7 for the Capitol to see. Something as big as that happening to the Capitol's favorite Victor would usually be common knowledge by now. However, the President did have ultimate power over the media, so it wouldn't be brought public unless Snow wanted it to be.

I stumble over to the kitchen, not even fully comprehending what I am doing. I'm fighting to keep my eyes open, they're dry and my eyelids feel like they're being weighed down with twenty-pound weights. This isn't going to work out well for me in the arena.

I grab an apple from the glass bowl on the wooden table and lean against the side of it. If I sit down now, I'm afraid that I'll fall back asleep.

I should have drugged myself, I mourn. I should have asked an Avox to fetch me sleeping pills. I'm exhausted, which could get me killed in the arena. Would I be able to run? Would I lose focus and trip? Would I get a headache and freeze in the middle of the bloodbath?

I glance at the clock, which is just a hologram on the walls that lights up once it senses your eyes drift towards it. The number glows immediately after it feels my gaze and I flinch back from the brightness. 4:27 AM, it screams to me. You should have gone to sleep when you had the chance, I tell myself.

I still have four hours to sleep, I ponder. The Hunger Games doesn't officially start until 12, but we have to wake up at 9 to get prepared and fly to the arena. Capitol citizens don't like to wake up early in the morning, instead they tend to stay out late at night then sleep early in the morning. By delaying the Hunger Games until noon, the Capitol is giving its citizens just enough time to get their eight hours in before tuning into their favorite TV show. How kind of them, I think sarcastically.

I ponder over whether I should return back to my bedroom to return back to sleep, but I doubt that I could even if I wanted to. I could always call for an Avox, but they're probably already sleeping and I don't want to cause the red-haired Avox girl any more pain than I have already caused her.

I still regret not saving her. I doubt that I could even if I tried, but it would have been the attempt that counted. It would have been better than living with seeing her eyes stare straight into mine every other night in my nightmares.

Instead, I wander over to the elevator and press on the District Four floor. I don't know why I'm compelled to visit Finnick, but I choose to do it anyways. I probably won't see him again, so this may be my last chance. He's become somewhat of a comrade to me ever since the first talk we had on the roof and I'd like to say goodbye to him, if anything.

The elevator is quiet when it opens this time, which may be due to how early in the morning it is. I wouldn't be surprised if the Capitol specially wired the elevator to be quiet during sleeping hours. It's dark and I have to stumble my way to the room where I know he would be, it's in the same place as Haymitch's is. The darkness is making me sleepy and I have to will myself awake.

"Ow!" I hiss through clenched teeth when I step on something hard and painful. I rage over whoever left the damn thing lying there. What kind of pigs are these District Four citizens? Not even cleaning up their damn mess… You would think that someone would notice the freaking thing, whatever it is.

I continue on to the room though and don't bother knocking. The door is cracked open anyways. Vaguely, I could hear pained groans and when I push the door open I have to squint to see him. Finnick's laying on his back, seeming to be frozen still, and he's sweating buckets, the moisture dripping from his forehead and whatever skin is visible from outside the thin blanket. He's breathing heavily and his chest strains with the effort it takes him to breathe.

_What's wrong with him?_ I wonder. _Is he sick? Does he have a fever?_

I purse my lips as I contemplate what I should do. In the Seam, whenever my sister was sick, I would use the snow. That is, if we were lucky enough to be sick in the winter. Believe it or not, the winter actually is the best time to get sick. The cold counterbalances the heat that you're projecting when you have a fever and it's easier to cool you down. Of course, it is harder to get food in the winter though. But when a sick person dies because of the lack of nutrition, I generally pass it off as starvation more than the fever's fault. It's an arguable point, but I stick to it no matter who tells me otherwise.

After a moment of thinking, I decide to get some ice. Before I came to the Capitol, the only ice I ever saw was on the frozen windowsills and concrete whenever it got cold enough. The ice in the Capitol was a huge difference, though; it was shaped into little stars and hearts and clean, completely free from dirt.

I fast walk into the kitchen and grab a handkerchief that was lying on the kitchen table. I have to lean over the table to press the menu button. It flashes before me and I slide over to the beverages section, clicking on the ice icon. The hologram disappears quickly after that and a bucket of ice appears on the table, lifting from wherever it's held. I've always wondered where the food comes from when we press the buttons. Does it go to some kitchen underground where the Avoxes work day and night to fulfill our orders? Or is it mechanic?

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts out of my head. When I'm tired I tend to drift off. I walk back to his room and sit down on my knees besides his bed. I would feel too uncomfortable lying on his bed, uninvited.

"Hey, Finnick?" I mutter. Using the covered ice, I press it against his forehead slowly. I'm no healer like my mom, or even Prim, but I know how to take care of a fever.

I gasp when Finnick reacts instantly. Flinging himself out of bed, he lands perfectly on top of me on the floor. With an arm against my throat and one holding down my body, I'm completely immobile and helpless. _What's going on? _

"Finnick?" I gaze upwards and I'm caught looking questioningly into his eyes.

* * *

Sorry, I've been enjoying my freedom when I have the chance. I start school again Monday and I've been milking out all the free time that I have. However I don't work tomorrow so I figured why not stay up a little late and post another chapter?

I live in Hawaii, so I'm pretty familiar with Finnick's homeland :3 Well at least the gist of it. My dad is a long line fishing captain and he's basically all knowing when it comes to fishing and everything, so I've sorta gained some knowledge from him. I used to hate the beach, but since I've fallen in love with Finnick Odair, I've been craving it lately. I'm gonna get my dad to teach me how to throw net and spearfish again... I've only ever went once and the one time I choose to go, there was a freaking shark in the water so I haven't gone back since. I'm terrified of sharks :P even though it's unlikely that I'll ever get bit.


	11. Chapter 11

I don't own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"Finnick?" I gasp bellow him, restraining from the urge to scream. His eyes are clouded over and I'm actually scared that he would genuinely _harm_ me. "Finnick? What are you doing?"

My voice finally seems to get through to him, knocking out of his trance. I can see the change in his eyes as they clear up.

"Katniss?" He hauls himself off of me as fast as he can, sitting down across from where I'm lying on the floor. "Shit! Katniss!? What the hell are you doing here!"

Finally pushing myself up from my position, I sit cross-legged in front of him. I don't answer him immediately; instead I squint as I look at him. He wipes the sweat from his face with his shirt calmly, as if it's a daily routine. It's then that I realize that Finnick doesn't have a fever he was having a _nightmare_.

Finnick's gaze drops from me and looks towards the handkerchief that I dropped when I was tackled to the floor. The ice has fallen out from its previously wrapped position and is splayed out on the floor. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and curiosity and I flush in embarrassment.

"I thought you were sick," I mutter, purposely looking away from him. "You were sweating." Finnick laughs at my answer, quickly easing back into his charming façade.

"And here I was hoping that you came to visit me for something a little more…" he drifts off as if he's searching for the perfect word. "Entertaining." He winks at me.

I scoff at him disgustingly, "Only in your dreams, Odair!" But my tone is light and joking.

"And what a wonderful dream that would be," he purrs, throwing me a smoldering look. I smirk back at him and give Finnick a once over. He looks absolutely terrible, like he's run a marathon and hasn't taken a shower in days. His skin looks paler than usual and his eyes are red and dry.

"You look awful," I tell him dryly. "Is this what the infamous Finnick Odair looks free from all makeup?"

"I would tell you that you look bad too, but you should know that already," Finnick throws back to me. I smile at him, happy that he's back to normal. "But really, why are here?" Finnick asks me. His fingers splay out and he feels the ground until his hand finally makes contact with the blanket, messily thrown half on, half off of the bed. He grasps it tightly and pulls it towards him, picking at it insistently.

"Just thought I'd give you a little visit," I say to him sarcastically. "It's been way too long."

"Easy there, Fire Girl, it's only been a couple of hours," Finnick draws his words out, pulling at a lone piece of thread he's found in the blanket.

I stay quiet for a few seconds, running over what to say in my head. "Can't sleep," I mutter.

"You better," Finnick's voice is dark now, serious. "You need to go to sleep Katniss, it's important that you do. You'll be weak in the arena."

"Really now?" I laugh dryly.

"What time is it?" Finnick ignores my attempt to insult him.

"Last time I checked, it was 4:30," I shrug at him. The victor from District Four curses and I flinch back at him, not used to his inappropriate language. Finnick is suave and charming in public, not at all vulgar like he is now.

"Jesus, Katniss!" He pushes himself up from the floor and I look up at him as he stands above me. Finnick reaches down and I take his offered hand, hefting myself up after him.

Finnick turns from me and sits down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to the spot next to him. In turn, I look at him incredulously.

"You're insane," I laugh. "If you think that I'm just going to hop into bed with you, you're freaking crazy!"

"Oh God, does it look like I'm in the mood for sex, Katniss?" Finnick scoffs back at me. My posture seems to drop immediately after and I can feel a blush start to fill into my cheeks, embarrassed at assuming him to take advantage of me. It wasn't even six hours ago that we were having a deep conversation up on the roof and I dubbed him trustworthy. Seems like old habits don't die, I think to myself, reminding myself that for years before I even met him, I've been judging him and calling him a manwhore.

"Sorry," I mutter, dropping into position next to him. He puts an arm around my shoulder and I question myself on whether or not I should shrug him off. I chose not to, deciding that it's too much trouble.

"If you want to cry or something, I'm fine with it," Finnick grins. I begin to laugh at him, but without my control my giggles turn into sobs and I shakily raise a hand to wipe away my tears. Well, this certainly wasn't what I was expecting to do when I decided to visit Finnick. Actually, I don't know what I was planning on doing when I met up with him. Pain rests heavily on my chest and it isn't long before I'm gasping for breath. Damn the Games and President Snow to Hell. Damn Haymitch for being too drunk to properly mentor me and damn Peeta for saving me all those years ago. Most importantly though, damn Finnick for somehow breaking through the walls I put up to defend myself. Screw him for making me out to be a weak, little girl. It's hard to breathe and I have to bend over to collect myself, heavily inhaling through my mouth and shakily releasing it.

Finnick soothingly rubs at my bed as my tears stain his sheets and I can't see his face but I'd imagine that he's just as calm and collected as he usually is. His arms grasp at mine, firmly but gently, and he pulls me into him.

Exhaustion kicks in and I allow him to let me rest against his chest, too tired to push him off; too tired to act strong and confident in myself. I furiously rub away at my face, smearing the salty tears against my skin, uncaring of my appearance. A few stray tears continue to escape from my eyes and I inwardly curse myself for acting weak.

I curl into myself, my arm hugging myself close and I dig my fingernails into the flesh of my arms. Maybe the physical pain will drown out the emotional pain I'm feeling right now, I hope. Finnick seems to take notice of this and grips my hands in one of his, pulling them away from my skin. I scorn him for a second. Can't he just allow me this one thing? I have never asked much from him.

"Katniss, be strong," he croons down to me and for once I'm actually soothed by his smooth woods. Usually when he allows his voice to be this sugar sweet, he's saying something charming and not at all true. But for once, he seems genuine using this tone.

"I can't, Finnick! I fucking can't!" I screech at him, not paying attention to the volume and we both look at the door, expecting someone to appear at the doorway. "I'm going to die in there," I say more quietly now. "I'm just going to end up another dead body that they're going to pick up."

"No, you're not," he tells me firmly.

"How do you know that, Finnick?" I question him, defeated. Finnick can't promise me something like that.

"I just do," Finnick soothes, his hand running up and down my back. It's silent for a long time, and somehow we wind up lying down in the bed, my head on his chest and his arms around me. I listen to his heartbeat, which is loud and strong, and feel the rise and fall of his chest, which signals that he's breathing.

"I'm scared," I admit, my voice small. "I don't want to die."

"It's okay, Katniss. I was scared when I was in your position, too." Honestly, I'm surprised at that; Finnick doesn't seem like the type to worry about anything.

"What did you do?" I ask him, looking for his guidance. "What did you do to make it go away?"

"Nothing," Finnick hums. "There's nothing you can do."

"That sounds reassuring," I mutter, allowing myself to be sarcastic again. His chest rumbles and I realize that he's laughing at me, but I don't bother looking up at his face.

"Nice to know that even though you're going through Hell right now, you still retain that attitude," Finnick mumbles. I growl out a response, not even paying attention to what I'm saying, and close my eyes.

"I'll wake you up tomorrow," I can hear Finnick assure me.

"Thanks," I murmur. Black consumes my worried thoughts and I'm plunged into a dreamless sleep. For once, I'm fully comfortable and in peace since I've been reaped. For once, I'm allowing myself to be completely at Finnick's mercy, but not at all caring about the outcome.

* * *

It's been too long~ But I've been so busy. I started school and I still have work and ohmigod, books are so expensive! ._. Feel sorry for me, people. Asides from that, I'm just really, really tired and my laptop broke down and I was terrified because it has all of my fanfiction on it and everything but it started up again, although I don't completely trust it, too. So, pray that it doesn't break down again because it's the only that I have to write on. My desktop broke too, and so I don't have back-up if it breaks. I've saved my next chapter on here though, which is the longest one I've ever written. 5,000 words! It took me awhile and it's not much compared to other people's chapters, but it's a lot for me.


	12. Chapter 12

I don't own the Hunger Games, but Suzanne Collins does.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

When I wake up, I'm warm and comfortable. My head is resting on something hard and firm, not at all like the soft Capitol pillows I'm used to by now. My arm is carelessly slung over the same hardness, and I splay out my fingers to get a better feel of whatever the hell it is. The Thing, which I have unofficially named it, moves. Up and down, up and down, rapidly with no clear pattern. _What the hell?_

I'm tempted to open my eyes, but I decide not to. I'm far too lazy and tired and damn it, whatever the Goddamn Thing is, it is comfortable. I burrow deeper into the Thing and allow myself to fall back into the black hole known as sleep.

* * *

"Time to wake up now, Katniss," a voice rouses me.

I moan in protest and turn away from the sound, pulling away from the Thing and resting my head on something fluffier that I recognize as the feel of one of the Capitol pillows.

"C'mon Katniss, I want to go back to sleep too, but we need to get up," the same voice says, insistently. Wait a second… Who the hell is talking?

My eyes shoot open and I rise from the bed quickly, clutching the blankets over my pajama clad form. Oh, it's just Finnick. My mind flashes back to the moment that I stepped into his room and tried to heal him from his 'fever.'

Although his hair is messed up and splayed out all over the place and his eyes are still groggy and not completely clear and focused, he is still as handsome as usual. _Dumb good looks_, I think jealously. I bet that I look like a freaking troll right about now. As if sensing my thoughts, Finnick grins at me cockily and winks.

"Ready, Girl on Fire?" Finnick asks me, and although he's throwing me a playful smile, his tone of voice is completely serious.

"Will I ever be?" I mutter back to him, rolling out of bed ungracefully.

"Nope!" He answers me back, popping the 'p' at the end. I send a glare his way and he retaliates with a deep chuckle.

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

"No problem, Katniss." Finnick stretches, extending his lean, muscled arms and long legs. I glance away from him when he does this, embarrassed at watching his perfect body in motion. I know that he's noticed my humiliation when he asks, "You know, you can watch if you want. Hell, I'll even allow you a little touch here and there."

"Not every one wants you, Finnick," I seethe.

"That's not what it looked like last night when you snuck in my room," he groans, climbing out of the Capitol's bed. "In fact, it looked like you wanted me pretty bad."

"Not in that context!" I shoot back at him. "I don't want you like that!"

"Does it matter in which context you want me in?" Finnick asks, reaching into the drawers for a shirt.

I scoff, not bothering to answer his question. It's a stupid question anyways. "You know, it's times like this that I really wonder if you're even a _real _person at all," I insult him, hoping that it hits home.

He pauses in his movement, one arm in the sleeve of the shining white long sleeve shirt he chose. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"You should know that it's not," I hiss.

"Katniss, what are we even fighting over anyways?" Finnick turns back to me, straightening the end of his shirt and looking at me questioningly.

"You!" I shout at him, irritated at his having to ask that. "Why do you have to act like such a freaking dick, today?"

"Katniss, stop," Finnick requests of me, but in the heat of the moment and as mad as I am, it sounds like he's demanding me to quiet down. I open my mouth to retaliate, but a new voice sounds from the door.

"What the hell is going on here?" A young, high-pitched voice shrieks from the doorway and we both glance over to the newcomer. It's the District Four girl, looking clean and ready with her golden brown hair up in a high ponytail and black eyeliner outlining her blue eyes. That's right, we didn't close the door last night.

It must look like quite the scene to her, I realize. It's obvious that I slept here by the pajamas that I'm wearing, my crusted eyes, and Finnick's shirt from last night that is thrown on the floor, carelessly. He's still wearing his pajama pants, but the pristine white shirt makes it obvious that he was in the middle of changing, right in front of me. I don't think that it really looks like we had sex, I ponder. I still have my clothes on, but in her jealous, rage-ridden mind, I bet that she'd jump to the conclusion.

"Sandy," Finnick starts, his brows furrowing in frustration and one of his hands coming up to rub at his temples.

"Think whatever you want to think," I spit back at her, barreling out of the room and pushing her out of the way. I put quite a bit of force in my push, but she's heavier and healthier than me and she only stumbles back a few steps before regaining her balance. I don't like the girl, I remember her presence in the Career pack and the seductive looks that she would throw to Finnick in public.

I head towards the elevator, my cheeks flushing when I see that Gabriel is in the kitchen, watching the scene from behind the marble counter. The elderly District Four female mentor, who I remember as Mags, is just hobbling out of her own room and I bow my head in her presence, quickening my speed.

I press the button with the arrow headed up and wait impatiently, tapping my foot and pushing my loose hair in front of my face. I forgot that I didn't put my hair in a braid already. Usually it's the first thing that I do in the morning.

"Uhh, hey Katniss," Gabriel's hesitant voice calls over from the kitchen and I turn towards him slowly. Looking at him questioningly he takes the hint and asks, "Want water?"

Really? At least it wasn't something cruel, I think of the bright side. He could have been like his District partner. "No thank you," I respond, my voice quiet.

Finnick finally exits his room, his face looking freshly washed and now he's wearing actual pants. Guess that he's not embarrassed to change in front of people, considering that his female tribute didn't leave his room while he was still in it. But then again, did I expect him to be shy? He is Finnick Odair after all.

"Katniss, wait!" He calls from the doorway, headed towards me. The girl is still following after him, shrieking nonsense that none of us are listening to. The doors finally snap open and I get inside quickly, pushing the '12' button just before he could reach me. He stops right outside of the elevator doors and watches me, not crazy enough to either step inside of a Capitol elevator when it's all ready to go or put a hand out to stop it.

I only allow myself to look at him a second before the doors snap shut and the elevator flies up to my floor. Haymitch, Peeta, and Effie are probably already waiting for me. I bet that Peeta is worried, knowing him. I hope he isn't, he shouldn't have to worry about me, and I don't want him to. He has no business to worry about me.

When the elevator finally comes to a complete stop, I step out and head towards my room. I pay no attention to Haymitch, who is drinking on the couch and grumpily looking at me, or Peeta, who is staring at me incredulously, as if I've done something incredibly wrong.

"Katniss!" Peeta calls to me, walking over to my room. "Where have you been?"

"Don't worry about it," I mutter back, finally entering my room and slamming the door behind me. I rummage through the dressers and pick clothes at random. It doesn't matter what I wear anyways, we will be assigned uniforms to change into before we enter the arena anyways. The uniforms change from year to year, depending on the arena. One year, when the arena was a blistering dessert, the tributes were basically assigned a tank top and some shorts. It was terrible and I vaguely remember the Capitol TV shows complaining about the lack of style.

I grab the brush from the top of my dresser and run it threw my hair a few times. It doesn't matter if my hair is straight or anything, in the end it will just end up in a tight braid anyways. Piecing the hair into three even sections, I quickly wove through the strands and tie the end with a strap of fabric from one of my old shirts from back home.

Glancing at my appearance in the mirror, I give myself a once over and nod my head. I still have to wash my face, which feels sweaty for some reason. I bet that it's because of all of the sweat that Finnick was encased in last night. Thinking it over, I blush as I realize that he must have been the Thing. The hard Thing that I slept on must have been his body. I've never slept with a man, or anywhere near a man really, well asides from my father and that was before he died, all those years ago.

I open the door quietly and I'm not at all surprised to see Peeta waiting for me outside. He looks hurt and dejected and I feel anger course through me because he has no right to care about my previous rejection and me. Does it even count as rejection if I simply chose not to answer one of his questions? I just don't want to tell Peeta that I slept with Finnick in his room, he would freak out and start lecturing me. I didn't think it was such a big deal anyways, it's not like there was anything romantic involved. And even if Finnick and I were in an honest relationship, Peeta shouldn't be butting into it anyways.

"What do you want, Peeta?" I ask exasperated, not even caring that I sound rude to him.

"Where were you last night?" Peeta asks me, looking a mixture of concerned, curious, and worried.

"Nowhere," I reply back, shrugging my shoulders.

"Why won't you just tell me?" Peeta questions, starting to look irritated at my aloofness.

"Because it's none of your business," I snap back at him, and it isn't. I shouldn't have to explain myself to him. He's not my brother, he's not my cousin, he's not my boyfriend, and he's definitely not my father. He's just the Boy with the Bread; he's just the boy that saved my life with two burned loaves of bread.

Peeta sighs, accepting the fact that I wasn't going to tell him anything and turns from me to return to his breakfast, which consists of a half eaten apple and a loaf of bread.

"Eat up, Sweetheart!" Haymitch calls from the couch, extending his bottle of liquor out to me in a celebrating motion.

"I'm not hungry," I mutter, crossing across the room. My stomach is fluttering with butterflies and even the notion of eating sickens me.

"Doesn't matter. You better eat while you can," he insists and I realize that he's right. When will be the next time that I eat? Will this be my last meal? It's definitely a high possibility.

I make myself to the kitchen counter and press the breakfast section on the hologram menu. I don't even care about what I'm going to eat. I don't have an appetite anyways and I'm positive that anything that I stuff in my mouth now will probably all taste the same anyways.

In the end, I chose to go with a few hard-boiled eggs, some toast, and a glass of milk. It's not much but it should be enough to keep me energized enough to sprint across the arena and find safety. That is, if there even is safety from the bloodbath. For all I know the arena could just be one massive, flat field with nowhere to hide. In that case, I would be screwed and it would probably just be easier for me to stand there and accept death like a coward. But of course, I promised Primrose that I would try to win and I could never allow her to watch me give up like that. Giving up on myself meant giving up on her.

The hard-boiled eggs are already peeled, which I'm delighted about. I've never been able to peel the shell from the egg perfectly. No matter how much time I spent peeling away and cracking and rolling, there were always one or two tiny remnants of the damn shell, which would irritate me whenever I crunched down on it in my mouth. But the lack of shell also calls for suspicion? Why was it already peeled? Do they have a machine for that or is it the Avoxes job? The Capitol people are simply too spoiled, unable to do something like peeling a boiled egg without thinking that it's too much of a hindrance.

I shake the thoughts from my head. I'm still tired from last night and although I'm thankful that I did manage to get a few more hours of sleep than I originally thought, I'm still extremely exhausted.

"So," Peeta starts. "What's your plan?"

"Run," I say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it should be. Does he expect me to stay for the bloodbath? "Run and find safety."

"Me too," Peeta murmurs. "I'm not exactly the fighting type."

"What type of arena do you think we'll get?" I ask him, honestly curious. The arena we get could be the difference between life and death. If the land were dead, then I would be too.

"If we're lucky, something like a forest," Peeta responds. "Hopefully not like a lake or something, though. I can't swim." I hope that we don't get a lake either, because although I can manage in the water, how am I supposed to shoot when I'm too busy trying to stay afloat.

"I don't think that they would do that," I trail off, deep in thought. "There are too much Districts that don't have know how to swim. Too many tributes would die in the bloodbath, it would cut the whole Hunger Games short and the Gamemakers are always trying to elongate the Games. A short Hunger Games means a boring Hunger Games." Peeta nods in understanding, accepting my answer.

We spend the rest of breakfast mostly in silence, asides from a few side comments here and there. Fifteen minutes later, all of us are up and ready to go; ready to face our inevitable death.

We take the elevator to the ground floor where our stylists will prepare us for the arena. It's only the third time that I've been to the ground floor, the first time being when I arrived in the Capitol and the second time was when I went out with Finnick on our little meet-up. It's arranged elegantly enough, with white couches with colorful splatters of paint against it and abstract furniture. I can imagine that President Snow wants to make a good impression on the sponsors that probably walk through those doors from time to time to visit the tribute mentors.

Haymitch leads us to a white door that blends in with the paintjob and opens it with his mentor ID. Behind the doors are a series of doors, each numbered from 1-12 with either a girl or boy icon next to them. We must be the last to arrive considering that the Career tributes are already exiting their room, dressed and ready to go. The Careers were probably the first to arrive, eager to finally enter the arena and kill a couple of kids. It sickens me, seeing the confidence shining in their eyes and the smiles on their faces as they joke with each other.

The District One female is the first one to notice my gaze on her and she sneers my way, throwing a few words over to her fellow tributes, which must be insults, that make them laugh and look my way. They head my way and I tense in anticipation, but instead of pausing once they reach me they just step in between Peeta and I and out the door. Cato makes sure to bump his shoulder against mine roughly and I'm thrown back a few steps. We don't need a mentor ID to step outside and I figure that it's because it's better to keep people out of the room, rather than let them in. I don't know why it would be such a big deal to be in the tribute preparation room, though; it's not much, only a series of doors, which leads to empty rooms for the tributes to change into.

Tributes should always be monitored by their mentors, though, which seems like common sense to me. I am without doubt that a tribute has probably attempted to escape through the front door, which is impossible to open without an ID. The clear doors are torture for those of us who know we are going to die. It allows us a view of the outside where we could hide away from the Hunger Games, but in the end it's just a view, and we are still trapped inside. The Career's mentors could probably care less about watching over their tributes, they know just as much as I do that the Careers don't want to escape, they want to enter the arena and they want to kill. I'm sure that the Careers are allowed free range of the whole building without supervision, as long as they don't go outside.

I walk over to the door labeled '12' with a girl icon next to it and open it roughly. Cinna is already waiting for me, sitting down on the edge of a wooden vanity. The uniform hangs from the edge of one of the mirrors and it's the first time I take notice of it, although I glanced over it when the Careers were exiting. I forgot how dire the uniform was to the arena.

"It looks like something you'll go camping in," I tell Cinna, glancing over the uniform. It's brownish, grey with a hood and it looks waterproof from the type of material it's made out of.

"That could be a good thing," Cinna replies to me, an encouraging smile on his face and it really could be. I'm used to the outdoors and if's it's anything like the forests that spread across boundaries of District Twelve then I'll have more of a chance.

"I hope it is," I murmur back to him. I'm not sure if he hears me or not, but he strides towards me and embraces me in a hug. I'm not used to a hug and at first it feels awkward and forced, but I allow myself to sink into him. Cinna is one of the few Capitol citizens that I don't hate, the other being Effie, and that's debatable.

"Just remember, I'm betting on you," Cinna tells me and I clutch his clothes tightly. When he lets me go, I fish through the pant's pockets and grip onto something cold and made of gold. It's the mockingjay pin. I haven't let it out of my sight sense I arrived at the Capitol, always keeping it in my pocket. I didn't want any of the other tributes to get a look at it, the Careers could steal it from me before the Games began and I didn't want to chance it.

I pull the gold pin from my pocket and clench it tightly before opening my hand. Cinna's eyes widen when he sees the pure gold that I've been carrying around all of this time and I realize that it's the first time he's actually seen it. Cinna probably already knows about the poverty in District Twelve, so he must be surprised that I have something of such great value in my care.

"May I?" He gestures to the pin and I nod my head slowly. He reaches into my hand and pulls it out of my palm carefully. Slowly, Cinna fiddles with it, twisting it around and eyeing it wondrously. "This is absolutely gorgeous."

"I know," I swallow, thinking back to when I first obtained it. "My friend, Madge, gave it to me." I'm surprised that I even referred to Madge as a friend, before the Games she was always more of an acquaintance to me. Being away from her and facing my possible death may have just opened my eyes to how much I truly cared about her presence.

Cinna sends me another one of his understanding smile and for the first time I'm extremely grateful for his way of communicating. He knows when I want to talk and when I don't want to and he doesn't try to butt into my life.

"Well, it's about time that you get dressed," Cinna sighs, leading me over to a smaller dressing room in the corner. I stand in the room for a while, alone, and allow myself to sink into my own thoughts. For the first time sense I've woken up, this is the first time that I've truly been alone and it feels both wonderful and terrifying. I inhale deeply and exhale shakily, my body tense and strained. I want to scream, I want to sob, I want to cry, but I know that I can't. My time for crying is over and now I have to be strong. I need to be strong, for Prim and Gale and Madge and everyone back home.

I numbly change into the uniform and step out slowly. Cinna is waiting for me outside and he gives me a once over before nodding. His hands are clenched and I briefly forgot that I left my mockingjay pin with him. I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. I haven't let it out of my sight since I've arrived and when it's finally time for the mockingjay to give me strength, I forget it with my stylist.

Cinna strides towards me and grips the lapels of my jacket firmly before clipping the mockingjay into it. It's a perfect spot to put it, plain in sight of anyone that looks at me.

"Good luck," Cinna tells me, before pulling me into another one of his hugs. This time, I let my arms circle around him too.

"Thank you," I say into his chest. "For everything."

Cinna gives me one last tight squeeze before leading me out the door where Haymitch and Peeta are already waiting for me. Haymitch is leaning against the door across from me, which is supposed to be for the District Eleven female, Rue.

"It's about time, Sweetheart," he grumbles, his hand tight around the glass bottle. I want to tell him to shut up, but I decide to let it slide. At least I'll be away from Haymitch's attitude once I'm in the arena. Without another look my way, he leads us back over to the door that we came in from and Peeta and I fall into step behind him.

Peeta reaches over to grab my hand and I look at him incredulously. He gives a smile and I let it go, allowing him to hold my hand as we follow after Haymitch. This may be the last time that I see this side of Peeta, this sweet and caring side that I appreciated, but also found annoying from time to time.

We head back to the elevator where a few other stray tributes are waiting and stop just outside the doors. I make out the faces of the District Ten male and the District Three female. I haven't bothered to learn their names and I don't bother to now. Creating friendships are useless when you're about to enter the arena where you'll all be killing each other soon anyways.

Thankfully the elevator comes soon, meaning that I don't have to wait with my fellow tributes for long. I can see them send looks my way every now and then and I know that they must be wondering how I got a score of eleven. I bet that they're wondering if I'm going to be the one to kill them and in passing I wonder that to. When I'm in the arena, would I lower myself to kill weak and defenseless tributes? Would I have a choice? I know that I would kill anyone that tried to kill me first but what would happen if I just ran into another tribute, scared and alone? Could I find it in myself to kill them? Or would I just let them go? I hope that I can end up being the better person in the end. I hope that I don't have to kill anyone at all.

The elevator takes us up to the roof where the hovercraft is waiting for us. Stepping outside of the elevator, I survey the area carefully. The roof has become somewhat of a companion to me and it's different seeing so many other people up on it. I'm used to being only up here with Finnick, or with Peeta that one time. Watching the tributes board the hovercraft, I'm oddly jealous. This is my roof that they're invading! Well, it's not actually mine, but I consider it mine. How dare these tributes treat it like any other place! How can they just disregard the view and step onto the hovercrafts without a second thought?

There are two large hovercrafts, one for the tributes and one for the mentors. Haymitch leads us over to the one that the tributes are boarding before heading over to the mentor hovercraft. He staggers into it clumsily and it's only now that I realize that he's carrying a whole other bottle of liquor, this one already halfway done. I watch him enter the large aircraft and my eyes widen in surprise when I see that Finnick is still waiting at the entrance. Why hasn't he boarded yet? I saw his female tribute with the other Careers; I bet that they were the first to board, so now that his job was done and his tributes were safely sitting in the hovercraft, shouldn't he be in his also? He doesn't wait outside long, staying just long enough to lock eyes with me and give me a nod before following after another mentor. Was that truly what he was waiting for?

I would be surprised if he even wanted to talk to me considering that I yelled at him this morning. Why did I pick a fight with him? It was probably over something stupid anyways. I tend to get riled up when I'm nervous or scared.

I board the craft with Peeta and take my seat near the doors. The hovercraft is mostly silent; all of us are tense in anticipation and fear. There are two women dressed in white, Capitol uniforms that take a few random tribute's arms and inject something into it. I can see the tributes flinch away when the shot is inserted into their skin.

"What is that?" I ask one of the women, when she stops in front of me.

"Your tracker," she answers, short and to the point.

I allow her to inject the small device into my arm, it's not like I could have fought her off anyways, before falling back into silence. It only takes us ten minutes to arrive at the arena, but there are no windows so I can't see what it is I'll be facing. I wonder how far we are away from the Capitol or from District Twelve. Ten minutes in a hovercraft could mean two hundred miles away. But then again, it could also mean twenty miles away. I've never been in a hovercraft before and I haven't heard anything about how fast one goes. The hovercraft lands somewhere near the entrance of the arena and the stairs open, only to reveal another set of steps headed downwards, into the ground.

I am the first to exit and Peeta is just behind me. I follow after the two peacekeepers that are leading us. Just like in the tribute preparation area, there is a series of doors, numbered 1 to 12. I continue to follow the peacekeepers until they come to a stop just at the end of the long hallway, right outside of my door. I turn towards Peeta and give him one last smile, which he returns.

"Good luck, Peeta," I tell him.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," he replies, a thick Capitol accent in his voice. I'm tempted to giggle at his antics, grateful that he's able to still be carefree in the darkest of situations.

I open the door slowly and enter the dimly lit room. There isn't a thing in the room, except for a clear, glass elevator heading up. I inhale deeply and exhale shakily once. I'm alone in here and I wonder if Haymitch chose to be with Peeta first. The loneliness only lasts a couple of minutes before Haymitch stumbles in through the door and throws himself into me to find his balance, gripping my arms tightly.

"Any last advice?" I ask him, a bit of sarcasm leaking into my voice considering that I doubt he can even stutter out a few words with the amount of alcohol he's consumed.

"Don't die," he grumbles. Haymitch finally pulls himself into a steady stance and gives me a pat on the back before slinking out the door. I watch him leave, not at all offended at his last words to me. It must be horrifying to come to the Capitol every year to mentor the tributes, only for them to die in the end anyways. Maybe that's why he's such a drunk.

I step towards the glass elevator, ready to enter it by myself when the door opens a second time. Finnick steps in and hurriedly captures me into an embrace. I allow myself to sink into him, bringing my arms up to his waist and encircling them around him.

"I'm sorry about this morning," I mumble into his chest. His presence is a grateful surprise and I'm happy that I'm able to apologize to him before entering the arena.

"I'll forgive you when you come back," he mutters back into my hair, before releasing me. "Now hurry up, we don't have much time." He grabs my arms and leads me over to the elevator, which is counting down the time. 01:05 it reads, and is counting down quickly.

He guides me into the open doors, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go. "Just," he pauses. "Just win." I glance back into the clock, which now reads 00:35, and send him a look.

"You know I can't promise you that," I tell him, although I wish that I can.

"Try," he replies back to me, sternly. The clock beeps, once, then twice, before the elevator starts to rise. I look down at him as I'm lifted up from the floor and he gives me a final look before he's out of sight.

* * *

As you can see, I've decided to go on a Hiatus. I've been really busy between balancing my school work, actual work, and my social life. This hiatus is something I've been thinking about for a week now. I have lots of ideas, but little inspiration right now. I'm so tired and I'm pretty lucky if I get 4.5 hours of sleep before having to wake up at 5:45 to either go to work or school at 6:30. It was easy enough when it was just work and winter break but now that I have work and school, I sort of need a little break. I'm guessing that this Hiatus will last a month, if even that, before I get the urge and inspiration to write again.


End file.
